


Beyond the Veil

by Aimee_Elisabeth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Self-Insert, With a twist!, found family trope, more like an OC insert really, she's also only eleven so...., she's doing her best, well she's trying to fix things
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 52,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23765779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aimee_Elisabeth/pseuds/Aimee_Elisabeth
Summary: When Su Li falls down a rabbit hole and out of the Veil, her whole life is turned upside-down. Not only has she appeared in the universe of Harry Potter, but she's also right at the beginning of the story... and she doesn't know how the story ends.Faced with the choice to become part of the story or to hide away in the shadows, Su decides to befriend a fellow orphan – Harry Potter – and change the world around her.But is she changing the story for the better, or for worse?
Relationships: Harry Potter & Su Li, Neville Longbottom & Harry Potter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 57





	1. Something Like Alice

There is magic in a story, in the telling of tales. It’s the power of hearts and minds and imaginations joined together. There is magic in characters who breathe and feel and fear and fight; in a world filled with love and hate and the hearts of a hundred thousand dreamers.

There is magic enough to give the story a life of its own, to turn its own wheels and spin its own fate. All it takes is a little faith and a little sacrifice.

It’s not so hard. Dying is easy. Easy as breathing, though the irony is understood. Just a little slip – of a knife, of the tongue, of one’s attention – and death will catch you in its waiting arms.

Everything starts from there.

* * *

On an idyllic summer’s day in Scotland, a family was having a picnic in the park. Children were laughing, women were gossiping, and men were making sandwiches. In a tree nearby, one little girl was reading a book, nestled cosily among the branches.

Beneath her perch, Su’s brothers were playing tag with their cousins, squealing and screaming and running like wild things. But she didn’t hear them – all her attention was on focused on the book in her hands. She was absorbed in the story, imagining a world of magic and mystery and danger and excitement. She barely noticed the turning of the pages – all she wanted to know was _what happens next?_

In her mind’s eye, she could see Harry Potter and his friends frantically battling Death Eaters in the Department of Mysteries. Her fingers curled around the edges of the book, creasing the cover as the story came to a head. And then–

No.

No, it’s not fair.

It’s not _fair_.

She had to close the book to catch her breath. Her heart hurt. Harry had lost Sirius now, but in some ways Su felt like she’s lost him, too. Her mother had always told her that she became too involved in stories.

“Su?” Startled out of her trance, Su dropped the book. Her mum stood under the tree, hands on her hips and frowning up at her. “What are you doing up there? You could get hurt.”

“I was just reading.”

Su’s mum rolled her eyes.

“Of course you were,” she said. “Lunch is ready. Go wash your hands and meet us at the table across the park, okay? I’m going to get your brothers.”

“Yes, Mum. I’ll be right there.”

Her mum walked away and Su took a moment to dream about receiving a letter from Hogwarts for her eleventh birthday and learning about magic and potions and ghosts and goblins. But magic wasn’t real and neither was Hogwarts, so she sighed and leaned across the tree to see if she could spy her fallen book.

She could see it peeking through a gap in the raised roots of the tree, the phoenix on the cover lit up by a stray ray of sunlight. From that angle it almost looked alive, like it might set the tree on fire with her in it.

A breeze shook the branches, leaves scratching at her face. She lifted one hand to bat them away – and that’s all it took. Her hand slipped on the branch and then she was falling. She saw the earth rise up to greet her, saw the hole her book fell into, and felt something like Alice, who fell headfirst into a rabbit-hole and found Wonderland on the other side. Far away, through the fog in her head, she could hear her mother screaming. Right in front of her a phoenix rose to greet her, swallowing her whole with a burst of pain and light… and then blackness.

* * *

Her body felt heavy and light all at once. She felt as if she was floating, adrift in the ocean, but at the same time her limbs were too weighed down to move. When she opened her eyes all she could see was darkness and, somewhere in the distance, the faintest glimmer of starlight.

Su’s first thought was that she was dreaming. But dreams never felt this real, with air so heavy she could hardly breathe and an echo of a heartbeat in her ears.

Her second thought was that she’d fallen into Wonderland, down the rabbit-hole and into the abyss. But Alice was just a story, and she was floating, not falling.

The stars were coming closer and Su could now see that they weren’t stars at all, but tiny pockets of silvery mist, glowing in the black expanse.

Oh. _Oh._

She was dead.

It was the only thing that made sense, and Su felt the weight of truth pressing on her chest. She was dead. She’d lived nine years and now she couldn’t live any more.

She didn’t even get to finish her book.

One of the pockets of mist floated closer and closer, until she was passing through it, surrounding her with a soft, silver light. The mist was cold, but to her surprise, when she touched it, it soaked into her skin until she herself was glowing. It felt strange – like putting on clothes that were too big for her, that would pinch in all the wrong places until she grew into them.

She could hear whispers now, coming from the mist, though she couldn’t make out any words. She couldn’t even tell if the whispers were in English, let alone what they might be saying. Su tried to listen, but the more she strained her ears, the less clear the whispering became, a faint buzzing hum in the back of her head.

She didn’t know how long she floated. Maybe hours. Maybe days. Maybe weeks, or years, or even centuries. Time seemed meaningless when nothing was happening and when nothing would ever happen again. She knew she should be sad, or scared, but she just felt… heavy.

She drifted past other clouds of mist without touching them, listening to them. Some of the clouds sounded angry, like a hive of bees, while others shrieked like dying cats. Some were silent and some slurped like sticky things unsticking.

After a time, she fell into a daze, something resembling sleep, if the dead could sleep. She was startled awake by something tugging at her ankle. If death was like an ocean, then the tugging was a rope of seaweed – slimy and frightening and attempting to pull her even deeper into the dark.

The clouds of light became smaller and smaller as she was pulled down, until they were just pinpricks in the black. A scattering of stars above her.

She began to panic, her heavy limbs sluggishly thrashing as if she could twist free of the invisible rope. The silver under her skin, however, reached down, moving _toward_ whatever was trying to eat her. That scared her even more – her only source of light leaving her alone in the dark – and Su curled in on herself, grasping the invisible rope with both hands. She followed the light down, down, down, into the abyss.

She didn’t see the door until she was about to pass through it – the silver mist was never as bright as she thought it was. Before she realised what was happening, Su tumbled through the curtain in the archway and crashed to the ground.

After so long in the dark, the sudden light burned her eyes, and she screeched like a banshee, clutching her face and hiding from the burning brightness. She could hear people shouting, much louder than anything in the dark place she was in before. The ground beneath her was solid and the air she breathed was cool and sweet.

There was a flash of red and Su fell asleep at last.

* * *

Madeleine Locke once thought that the word ‘impossible’ had been struck from her vocabulary during her years as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries. Now, as the Head of the Department faced a rather panicked pangolin patronus, she realised that there were still quite a few things she considered impossible, and that one of them was being proved _quite possible_ right now. She could _feel_ the headache coming on, building behind the bridge of her nose.

“A child fell through the Veil?”

The pangolin nodded its silvery head and said, in the voice of Unspeakable Alfred Yao: “We’ve taken her to the infirmary. You have to come see her.”

The patronus faded, but Locke’s headache did not.

She snatched up her wand and strode out into the main hall, shrugging on her outer robe as she walked. Three doors and an uncomfortable drop later she found herself in the Department Infirmary, staring down at the tiniest girl she had set eyes on in the last decade.

“Has she said anything?”

Beatrice Li looked up from casting diagnostic charms on the girl and shook her head. “She was shouting about the light burning her eyes when she fell through, but Yao stunned her a little after that.”

Locke glared sharply at the man, who at least had the grace to look sheepish.

“She scared me,” he admitted. “People don’t come through the Veil – they only go through. One-way trips only. I wasn’t expecting her.”

Locke pursed her lips, but said nothing. Honestly she couldn’t deny that she might have done the same in his position. Li, on the other side of the room, continued to fuss over the unconscious girl.

“Can we wake her?”

“I don’t know,” Li frowned at the girl. “It might be quite a shock for her. Look how young she is. And we have no idea how much time has passed since she died – she could be waking decades in the future, completely alone.”

“And look at her clothes,” Yao gestured at the girl’s jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers. “Obviously muggle. She might not even be a witch.”

“Muggle…” Locke frowned.

“What is it?” Yao asked.

“She might have died in the war,” Locke pointed out. “Muggle or Muggleborn, she would have been a target of You-Know-Who.”

“If that’s the case, she’s probably an orphan,” Li added.

“We could ask her,” said Yao.

“Yao!”

“What? We’ll have to wake her up and ask her questions eventually anyway. Since we have to ask her name and age, we might as well ask after her family, too. If they’re still alive, we can probably contact them as well.”

Li sighed and looked at her boss.

“What do you think?”

Locke peered at the girl, tiny and pale in her sleep, and sighed.

“Let’s wake her up.”

* * *

Su woke up with a start. Her body felt sore all over, as though she’d been slowly squeezed through a very small hole. She was vaguely aware of a woman hovering beside her, but she was too achy to really focus.

“What happened?” she mumbled. “Am I at the hospital?”

A brief pause and then:

“Yes. Yes, you are. Do you remember what happened?”

“I fell. I slipped and then I fell.”

With some effort, Su managed to open her eyes. What she saw did not look like any hospital she’d ever heard of, unless hospitals had black marble ceilings and were lit by fires in iron sconces. There were two women on her left and a man standing a little further away – all three were dressed in long black robes. Su frowned at them, utterly baffled.

“Where’s my mum?”

The nurses shared a worried glance and Su’s stomach churned uncomfortably.

“Where’s my mum?” she asked again.

“She’s waiting outside,” said the man. “We’ll let her in after we ask you a few questions.”

“Yao!” The older woman hissed through her teeth.

“What?”

“Don’t lie to the child!”

The uncomfortable curl in Su’s stomach tightened further. Lie? Where was her mum?

“We can just _obliviate_ her afterwards if it worries you that much.”

_What._

“What’s your name, dear?” asked the third nurse, smiling kindly.

“Su,” she answered, frowning at them. “Su Li.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Su. My name is Beatrice. Can I ask how old you are?”

“I’m turning ten in July. What do you mean _obliviate_?”

The three nurses hesitated. Su saw Beatrice’s eyes widen and her face pale, mouthing the words _nine years old_ to herself. 

“Muggle. Told you.”

“ _Yao!_ ” Beatrice hissed.

 _Muggle_ , Su thought, _as if they’re not. As if they’re– but they can’t be. Because magic isn’t real. It’s just a story._ She looked again at their robes – heavy and worn, like something out of a fantasy film only not quite. More realistic. More worn in.

“Alfred Yao, you have the tact of a grindylow, honestly,” the other lady rolled her eyes. “Hello Su, I’m Madeleine Locke. Do you remember what happened to you before you woke up here?”

Su frowned, trying to recall. The details were weirdly fuzzy and her body still hurt.

“I fell. And I hit my head. I thought–” she cut herself off, remembering the strange black limbo with the silver clouds and how she felt as though she’d floated there for a thousand years.

“What did you think, sweetie?” Beatrice leaned forward, a gentle look in her eyes.

“I thought I died,” Su whispered, tearing up.

“Oh, sweetie,” Beatrice sighed, reach out to stroke her hair. Su flinched away.

“I want my mum!” she cried. This was a nightmare. It had to be. She’d never dreamed anything that felt this real, but it had to be a dream. It couldn’t be real. “We’re on holiday and we’re going home next week. I want to go home.”

“Li, what do we do?” Yao asked.

Su started sobbing in earnest, tears stinging her cheeks and her breath coming in short, sharp bursts. The ache in her body was bone deep and she’d never been so scared in her life, not even when she’d gotten lost at Disneyland when she was six.

“I’ve got a calming draught,” Locke pulled a flask out and leaned towards Su. “Here, drink this.”

“No!” Su screamed and tried to bat the potion away, but her body was still weak. Her hands barely moved, but she still heard the tinkling sound of shattering glass. “I want to go home!”

“Yao,” Beatrice barked at the man behind her. “Grab a Dreamless Sleep potion. It’s on the second shelf behind you.”

Su shuddered, still crying. They were saying things that made it sound as if they were magic. But they couldn’t be. Because magic was just a fantasy – it wasn’t real.

“Here, Li.”

Before Su realised what was happening, a flask was pressed to her lips and milky, slightly sweet syrup was poured into her mouth.

She fell asleep almost instantly.

* * *

  
“What do we do now?” Beatrice asked, her hands still shaking, putting the empty potions vial on the table beside the girl’s bed.

“Get records. See if we can find an obituary for a Su Li anytime in the last twenty years. She’s probably either a muggleborn or a half-blood, so look through both muggle _and_ wizarding papers.”

“You think she’s a witch?” Yao asked.

“She knocked my potion away with accidental magic,” said Locke.

“She said her name was Li. Any relation to your husband, Beatrice?”

Beatrice shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe. I can ask Nathan tonight. But it’s a common name in both worlds. And her accent… she’s not from anywhere in Britain.”

“Mmmm. Australian. I think,” Locke nodded. “Maybe New Zealander. I can never tell the difference.”

“What about the girl?” Yao gestured to their guest. “We can’t just keep her in the Department forever. We can’t send her back through the Veil, obviously. So what do we do with her?”

“We can care for her here for now,” Locke sighed. “I’ll ask Pearl to come check on her, since he’s in charge of Healing Research.”

“And after that?”

“If we adopt her, it’ll have to be an Unspeakable,” said Beatrice. “If word gets out that a girl came through the Veil she’ll be as famous as Harry Potter. That’s not healthy for a girl her age. Not to mention the target it’ll put on her back.”

“Imagine what rogue necromancers might do if they learned about her.” Yao paused and frowned, then shuddered. “Actually don’t.”

“We’ll arrange a meeting to discuss our options,” Locke sighed. It will have to be in the morning, though I’m calling Pearl here now to make sure she’s in a stable condition. I only want the four of us to know about this, for now.”

Yao nodded and left the room, but Locke snagged Beatrice’s sleeve before she could do the same.

“Beatrice… I don’t want to impose on you,” she said, “but can you talk to your husband? Try to find out how he feels about adoption, and older children. At the moment our options are limited. That might change in the future, but for now…”

“I understand,” Beatrice smiled. “I’ll talk to Nathan. See you tomorrow, Locke.”

Locke nodded and walked away, probably to write to Pearl. Beatrice sighed and went back to her office to gather her things so that she could return home.

Wandering out into the sunny streets of London, Beatrice felt as though the weather was wrong for the occasion. The weather should be dark and stormy when someone came back from the dead. At the very least it should have been very late at night, when the streets were eerie and empty. Instead, the people of London – magical and non-magical alike – were going cheerfully about their day, the sun still shining brightly overhead.

Beatrice sighed and turned down an alleyway before apparating home. She didn’t even bother taking off her cloak or kicking off her shoes – she just flopped into a chair at the kitchen island and dropped her face into her hands, groaning loudly.

“That bad, huh?” her husband asked.

“Nathan, promise not to tell anyone about this?”

“I always keep your secrets, Bea,” he reminded her.

“I’ve just had the longest day of my _life_ ,” she moaned, kicking off her shoes and summoning a bottle of wine. “I swear, when I took this job I didn’t think– well I did and then I _stopped_ – because being an Unspeakable isn’t supposed to be– well the things that _happen_ aren’t supposed to be–”

“Bea,” Nathan put a hand on her shoulder and took the wine bottle in hand, pouring them both a generous glass. “What happened?”

“Yao and I were working in the Death Chamber today,” she began, taking a hearty gulp of wine. “It was his project – the one with time-turner sand. Another attempt to communicate beyond the Veil.”

“Let me guess – something exploded?”

“Worse.”

“Worse?”

“A girl fell through the Veil.”

A pause. Beatrice took the opportunity to drink more wine. She tried to remember if they had anything in the house that was stronger than wine. She thought they might have a bottle of firewhiskey somewhere, but she wasn’t sure where.

“A girl. Fell through. The Veil.”

“Yup.” Beatrice topped up her glass. Nathan still hadn’t touched his.

“But that’s impossible!”

“That’s what I said!”

“So why are you telling me? I imagine this isn’t the sort of thing Locke would want shared. This is– well I don’t know how people would react, but I don’t really want to find out. Shit, Bea. What is this?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t. Locke’s organising a meeting tomorrow to try and figure out what to do with her.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you’re telling me this. You don’t usually share the delicate details of your work with me. For obvious reasons, _Unspeakable_ Li.”

“She’s nine, Nate,” Beatrice sighed. “A nine-year-old girl. It’s not like we can keep her in the Department forever – if at all.”

Nathan sighed, finally taking a deep drink from his wine.

“I see where this is going – they want us to take her in. Is it because you’re the one who was there when she came through the Veil?”

“I think it’s more because I have a wonderful husband with lots of spare time to look after a kid. Oh, and because of her name, too, I suppose.”

“Her name?”

“Su Li. Yao asked if she was any relation.”

“There are so many Li’s in the world I wouldn’t be surprised either way,” Nathan admitted. “But if she is, it’s not a close relation.”

“Look into it, please? Judging by her clothes she can’t have died more than twenty or so years ago. She’s dressed like a muggle, though, so there might not be anything to find. At least, not on your end.”

“Bea, are you sure about this? Death is Death – it can’t be defied without serious consequences. And time-turners… terrible things happen to people who mess with time. You should know this better than anyone, Bea.”

“Changing the past is one thing,” Beatrice replied. “But giving a future to someone who deserves one – who was too young to die – surely that’s the best option?”

“The kindest one, maybe,” said Nathan. “I guess this is the sort of stuff you’ll be talking about in your meeting tomorrow, isn’t it? What to do, what the consequences might be, what you know and don’t know et cetera et cetera.”

“I imagine so, yes.”

“Well then. Let’s get you to bed so that you can rest up after your _very long day_ and prepare for the next very long day.” He plucked the wine glass from his wife’s hand, laughing as she blindly grasped for it without lifting her head from the crook of her other arm.

“I hate you,” she muttered.

“You love me,” he replied. “Come on. Bath and then bed.”

* * *

  
When Su woke up again, she was in a similar room to before – black marble walls and ceiling, lying in a curtained-off cot. There were no people around, this time. There was no sound. The one time she had been to the hospital to visit her cousin Aaron when he broke his leg, it had looked nothing like this. The hospital had been bright and white and loud, filled with beeping machines, chattering guests, and the murmuring of doctors and nurses discussing their patients.

This dark and silent place frightened her. There was no movement or sound. It was like a mausoleum – or what she might expect a mausoleum to be, having never actually seen one in person. Nevertheless, she was positive that whatever this place was, it was _not_ a hospital and her mum wasn’t here.

That was the worst part – she just wanted her mum. She just wanted to be hugged and told that everything would be okay, that this was all just a nightmare and that the monsters under the bed wouldn’t get her as long as she cleaned her room and ate all her vegetables – even if she was too old now to believe in monsters.

A choked half-sob, half-laugh burst from her throat at the thought of the old stories her mum would tell her to simultaneously rid her of her fear of monsters under the bed and also do her chores at the same time.

“You alright, there?”

Su sobered immediately, drawing her knees up to her chest in order to get as far away from the strange woman as possible. She didn’t know what they wanted from her, and she was terrified out of her wits, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight if that were what it would come to.

It didn’t look as though the woman – Beatrice, she’d said her name was – would attack her. She had a tray of food in her hands and was smiling gently at Su. The robes she was wearing were long and cumbersome – if she needed to, Su could probably trip her over and tangle the woman in her own clothes, using the confusion to escape. But she had no idea where she was, or how to get home, so for the time being she would stay put.

“I’ve brought you breakfast,” Beatrice held up the tray. As if on cue, Su’s stomach rumbled loudly. Beatrice laughed. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so we have congee, bacon and eggs, and pancakes. Which would you like?”

Su stared at Beatrice and then stared at the tray. It all looked – and _smelled_ – delicious. And she _was_ hungry, hungrier than she’d ever been in her life.

“Everything, please,” she said. Beatrice’s eyebrows went up, but dutifully handed over the tray and Su dug in. It was the best meal Su had ever eaten, but that may also have been because she hadn’t eaten in what felt like an eternity.

Beatrice smiled at her and said: “I’m sure you have a lot of questions.”

Then she pulled out a wand and conjured up a chair. Su choked on her pancakes, coughing and spluttering while her eyes were glued to the chair that had just appeared out of thin air.

What. _What._

“Was that– was that _magic_?” Su asked, voice still raspy from choking.

Beatrice smiled sheepishly and nodded.

“I suppose we can start with that,” she said. “You have probably been raised by muggles – what we call non-magical people – and have been told that magic isn’t real. This is not true. I am a witch, and so are you.”

“WHAT? No I’m not!”

“Haven’t you ever noticed strange things happening, when you are upset or angry? Have you ever wondered what might have caused them?”

“No!”

“No?” Beatrice frowned. “Don’t you remember knocking away the calming draught we tried to give you before, without even moving your hands?”

“I didn’t– I don’t– I’ve never done anything magic before.”

“I understand that this might be a shock to you, but what I’m telling is true. Magic is real. Witches and wizards are real. And you are a witch, Su.”

Su was silent, absorbing what she’d been told. She definitely hadn’t had magic before – she would have noticed, especially after she started reading Harry Potter books and became nearly obsessed with being a witch.

This had to be a dream. Or, if not a dream, then something must have changed when she… when she fell into the rabbit-hole, metaphorical or not. Maybe when she came into this world – where magic was real – she was _given_ magic in order to live in it? She had no way of knowing the truth.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” said Beatrice.

“I’m– I’m okay,” _I think_. Su shook her head. She had to change the subject. “Where are we? This isn’t a hospital, is it?”

“No. We do have healers – Sherlock Pearl is our best.”

“Sherlock?”

“Pearl,” Beatrice nodded. “He’s the healer in charge of your case. You were in a very delicate condition when you came here.”

“Delicate?” Su frowned.

Beatrice hesitated. There was no easy way to say _your bones were disintegrating into dust, held together only by your magic, and you almost died five times over the last month._ Pearl probably would have just said so outright – while he was an incredible healer, his bedside manner was abhorrent. That was probably why he was an Unspeakable and not working at St. Mungo’s.

“You’ve been asleep for almost a month now.”

“A month? But–” Su wanted to ask after her parents, but she didn’t want a solid answer to what she already suspected – that they weren’t here and never would be, because she’d gone somewhere they could never reach her.

“Yes?” Beatrice prompted.

“I _feel_ fine,” Su said instead. “Tired, but fine.”

“Pearl is a master in his field,” Beatrice nodded. “Speaking of Pearl, I should let him know that you are awake. He’ll want to talk to you about your symptoms. Rest up – your magical core is severely depleted right now.”

Su frowned. _Depleted_? What did that mean?

Beatrice had disappeared out the door before Su realised that she’d never answered her original question. Where was she?

Slowly she finished her breakfast, barely tasting the delicious food with so much on her mind. She had her suspicions – especially when Beatrice had used the word ‘muggle’ – but she had to know for sure. She had to know if she shared a world with Harry Potter, and what that would mean for her.

Soon a man in robes showed up at the door. He was tall and thin, with a stiff, pinched expression, and introduced himself as Pearl. Though he looked severe, his hands were gentle when he looked Su over, checking her health.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

“Tired,” Su admitted. “And heavy.”

Pearl nodded. “You are magically exhausted, and that can often take a physical toll. I imagine the heaviness will remain for at least a week or two more. When you are less tired we will start exercising you, to build up your health again.”

“What– what’s going to happen to me?” Su asked, afraid of the answer. “Where are my parents? What _happened_ to me?”

“As far as I know – you died,” Pearl told her, not looking her in the eye. “I don’t know what happened to your parents, but we can find no trace of your family through your blood, neither have we found any record of your death.”

 _That’s because I didn’t die_ here _,_ Su thought. _I don’t belong here. This is not my world._ She didn’t know how to feel about dying – being told that she was dead. The confirmation didn’t surprise her, not exactly, but a chilling numbness spread through her body and she felt like a stranger in her own skin.

“As for what happens next,” Pearl continued, waving his wand and frowning at whatever he saw in the spell, “I do not know. Most likely we will find you a foster-family, you will go to Hogwarts, and we will try to give you the life you should have lived. I doubt that comforts you, but you cannot stay here forever.”

“Where is ‘here’, anyway?”

“The Department of Mysteries.”

Su gasped, her head throbbing. Vaguely she recalled the Veil that she fell through, guessing that it was the same one that she had read about, though the book was forever lost.

She sat in stunned silence as Pearl finished his examination. She didn’t notice him picking up her breakfast tray, or leaving the room. When she did eventually realise that she was alone she curled up in the bed and started to cry.

* * *

  
“What did you say to her?” Beatrice hissed while the girl’s sobs echoed down the hall. Pearl just shrugged, lips tugging down into the barest hint of a frown.

“The truth. I answered her questions, nothing more.”

“Pearl!”

“What?”

“You have _no_ tact. You’re worse than Yao!”

“Hey!” Yao protested from across the room. “I resent that.”

“You know what you did, Yao,” Beatrice rolled her eyes.

“I answered her questions,” Pearl repeated, stubbornly. “While it may not have been gentle, I do believe I was kind. She has answers now, and some peace of mind.”

“Does she _sound_ peaceful to you, Pearl?” Beatrice asked, waving her hand in the direction of the crying girl. “She’s _nine years old_. She doesn’t need to know all the gory details of her death.”

“I gave her no details,” Pearl frowned. “I simply confirmed the suspicions she already had. You were the one that told me that she was at least partially aware of her own death. Fortunately, it sounds like it was simply a tragic accident, and not the product of the war.”

“Ugh! You’re impossible,” Beatrice threw her hands up in the air and spun on her heel, needing to get away from fools who gave hard truths to children. She could still hear Su crying – stifled, breathless gasps that indicated she was trying not to – and her heart was breaking. The girl was far too young to have died, and far too young to deal with the consequences of returning to life without her family.

She found herself storming all the way into Locke’s office – a journey that had surprisingly few detours into weird and wonderful Mystery Rooms. Maybe the building itself was on her side, or at least the crying girl’s side. Li frowned – the seeming semi-sentience of magic itself was a mystery they at the DoM barely even touched on. It was an enormous and slightly worrying concept after all.

“We have to do something,” she exclaimed as she burst through the door. Locke sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. There were three tall piles of paperwork on her desk; mounds of scrolls all bunched up and tied with different coloured ribbons, some squawking indignantly, some shrieking urgently, and others grumbling grumpily. Locke’s hair was frizzing out of its bun and she looked minutes away from setting her entire office on fire.

“What’s all this?”

“Harry Potter’s going to school next year,” said Locke. “Some nincompoop at _The Daily Prophet_ wrote an article about it and now it seems that every department in the Ministry is wondering why _we_ haven’t figured out how he survived the Killing Curse. I’ve been casting silencing charms for the last hour, but they just keep coming.”

As if on cue, three more small owls swooped down a chute above their heads to drop several more scrolls on Locke’s desk. She opened a small drawer and pulled out some treats for the birds – the poor things were clearly overworked – and promptly set the new scrolls on fire.

“I hate bureaucrats,” she said, turning her back on the fiery mess and fixing her hair. “Let’s see any of those Ancient and Noble arses do my job. I _dare_ them.”

“Can I make you a cup of tea?” Beatrice asked, already crossing the room to fill the teapot on Locke’s shelf. Her boss nodded, fishing out her Department Head ‘Do Not Disturb – Mystery In Progress’ sign from under her desk and using a sticking charm to cover the owl-chute.

“So you know how _my_ day’s going,” she said. “How are you?”

“Delightful,” Beatrice said shortly. Locke’s eyebrows shot up.

“That bad, huh? Yao again?”

Beatrice shook her head.

“Pearl. The girl woke up–” Locke almost dropped her tea in surprise, “– and I told her that she was a witch. She didn’t take that well – clearly muggleborn, the poor thing – and then Pearl waltzed in to do her check up and immediately told her that she _died_ , that she has no family, and that she’ll be sent away to live with complete strangers as soon as she’s well!”

“Well,” said Locke, sipping her tea. “Well,” she said again.

“Exactly,” Beatrice nodded, drinking her own tea. The two witches sat in silence for a few minutes, gathering their thoughts and calming themselves down, before Locke put her tea down and looked at Beatrice.

After a moment, Beatrice put her tea down as well and looked at Locke.

“You wanted to do something?” Locke asked. Beatrice nodded. “Then what do you suggest?”

“I want to take her home,” said Beatrice. “The Department is no place for a child and all the Unspeakables are here to work, not babysit. Nathan works from home – he has more time to spend with her. We’ve already spoken about the possibility of taking her in, at least for a little while.”

“Are you sure about this, Beatrice?” Locke asked, as a friend and not as her superior. “A child is a great responsibility, especially one who has as much baggage as Su does. If you’re going to do this, you must commit.”

Beatrice bit her lip and frowned into her teacup. It wasn’t an easy decision, and she and Nathan had gone back and forth on the subject ever since Su had appeared. There were a number of reasons that this might not work out, a hundred ways it could all go wrong, but… but there was a little girl without a family, and she and Nathan had always wanted a little girl. It was not, perhaps, the most conventional way to gain a child, but it wasn’t any less valid.

“Yes,” said Beatrice. “I’m sure.”

Locke saw the resolve in her eyes and nodded.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll draft up the paperwork. We’ll need a backstory for the girl – where she came from, adoption papers, et cetera et cetera. I don’t want anyone outside the Department to know where she came from. Yao is right; she’d be in great danger if anyone knew about the Veil. Until everything is prepared, I suggest that we all lay low. We don’t need anyone from the upper floors digging into this.”

As if on cue, Locke’s ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign ripped in half and numerous shrieking scrolls spilled out of the chute, covering her desk in obnoxious papers.

“I hate bureaucrats,” Locke scowled.

“I’ll get started right away,” said Beatrice, standing up. “Thank you for the tea, Madeleine. Good luck with the paperwork.”

“Ha!”

* * *

  
Su spent most of the next week sleeping, still recovering from her… _ordeal_. She cried a lot for the first few days, but as the week continued it was almost as if she’d begun to run out of tears.

She spent most of her time alone, but was visited at least once a day by Pearl – who apparently hated his first name – and Beatrice. She found that, as she began to get over her shock of _dying and appearing in a fictional world,_ she quite liked the two Unspeakables. Pearl was brusque and awkward, but not unkind. He answered her questions simply and straightforwardly and was happy to explain the spells he was performing on her if she asked.

“This is a diagnostic spell,” he would say. “I’m measuring the state of your magical core relative to your physical health. See how that ball of light does not quite fill the silver net around it? That indicates that your magical core is not quite full. See how this outline of your body is glowing, all your bones lit up like that? That shows where the magic is going, where you are still healing yourself, your bones knitting themselves back together. It’s a miracle you aren’t dead, actually.”

Beatrice was gentler than Pearl – or perhaps simply more sociable – and Su could see that the Unspeakable was careful to measure her words so that she wouldn’t frighten or upset her. That consideration was touching. Lost, confused, and essentially orphaned, Su appreciated the kindness.

She always made sure that Su was comfortable, well fed, and had a few books or magazines to entertain herself whilst unsupervised. Su read books like _The Tales of Beedle the Bard, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,_ and even got her hands on a few copies of _The Quibbler_.

When she read an article about Harry Potter going to school in the next year, she was surprised – hadn’t he already graduated? All the books had been published in her world, though she hadn’t yet read them all. She checked the issue date of the magazine – April 1990, twenty-five years out of date. But when Su asked for more recent issues she was informed that those _were_ the most recent issues.

That information freaked her out almost more than finding out that she’d been dead and had passed through the Veil – that, at least, she had half-expected. Time-travel, however, was… she didn’t know what it was. She could barely eat or sleep for two days, too shocked by her discovery.

She spent most of that time either trying to distract herself by gaining some control over her newfound magic – though the most she could perform without a wand was making her glass of water tip over without touching it – or by trying to learn as much as she could about the world she now lived in.

 _The Quibbler_ was filled with accounts of animals that may or may not exist, gardening tips, de-nargling advice, and the occasional conspiracy theory that He Who Must Not Be Named was actually still alive disguised as a muggle named Bob. It was hard to tell what was nonsense and what was real, especially with a limited understanding of ‘normal’ in the wizarding world, but Su trusted it more than the _Daily Prophet_ – at least when it came to political opinion pieces.

Being nine years old, she didn’t understand most of what she was reading – there was something about a lot of pureblood families trying to pass policies that benefited them and only them, some kind of passive-aggressive back-and-forth between Albus Dumbledore and Lucius Malfoy, and a brief mention of werewolves being spotted hunting in Northern Scotland.

What little she did understand made her think very hard.

She had no doubt that Harry Potter would defeat Voldemort and save the Wizarding World and probably send Umbridge to Azkaban for being a nasty, unpleasant toad, and would likely win the House Cup for Gryffindor seven times in a row. But she also knew that the problem between purebloods and those they believed to be inferior to them would not be so easily solved.

Su was very young and fairly sheltered, but she saw the way her mum’s eyes tightened when people mentioned her ‘exotic’ looks, how her friends at school expected her to be good at math because she was Asian, how her father sometimes got scolded for speaking to her in Chinese because he was ‘not in China anymore’.

Just because people didn’t _think_ they were racist didn’t mean they didn’t hold prejudices or certain expectations. Her mum sometimes said that bad culture was a more sinister enemy than a bad man – the man could be seen, caught, attacked, and defeated. But _ideas_ were abstract and incorporeal. She couldn’t punch an idea in the face. She had to change people’s minds, one person at a time.

She didn’t even know where to start.

Lost in thought, Su almost didn’t notice Beatrice knocking softly on the door of her room. When she looked up the Unspeakable was standing by her bedside, wringing her hands nervously.

“Is something wrong?” Su asked.

“Wrong?” Beatrice blinked, laughing nervously. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just, um…”

Su sat very still as Beatrice took a seat on the side of her bed and gathered her thoughts.

“You’re a very bright girl, Su,” Beatrice began. “And I’m sure you’re aware that we’ve had some trouble locating your family.”

Su nodded slowly, frowning. Where was this going?

“We’ve kept you here while you’ve recovered from… from what happened to you. But the Department of Mysteries isn’t really a place for a child.”

“I can’t stay here forever,” Su nodded.

“That’s right,” Beatrice smiled, still wringing her hands. “We’ve been talking about you and… well. Would you like to come home with me tomorrow? You could stay with my husband – Nathan – and me.”

Su swallowed, her fingers clutching her blankets until her knuckles turned white. For a few moments her mind was completely empty. She couldn’t see anything except her mother’s smile, her father working on the accounts with his glasses slipping down his nose, with her brothers’ shrieking laughter echoing in her ears. 

“Su?” Beatrice gently touched her hand, and Su carefully unclenched her fist.

“Okay,” she said quietly, trying very hard not to cry. “That’s– that sounds nice.”

“I know it’s scary for you,” Beatrice whispered. “I know you must miss your family very much. I’m not trying to replace them, I promise. I just want to take care of you.”

“I know,” Su choked on a sob, scrunching up her nose to stop her tears from spilling out. Her face felt itchy and warm and her vision was blurry with tears. Angrily she scrubbed her eyes with her sleeve, as if she could shove the tears back in place.

“I know,” she said again. “I’m just–”

She sobbed again, and when Beatrice held her arms open for a hug, Su couldn’t stop her tears any more. She collapsed into Beatrice’s arms and cried. It was such a scary thing, being in a strange place without her family. There was so much she didn’t understand, and she didn’t know how being here, in this world, would affect the story. What if Harry Potter didn’t save the day? What if – because Su had messed everything up – Voldemort won? What if she’d ruined everything just by existing?

She missed her mum, who would hold her and stroke her hair as Beatrice was doing, but who would _smell_ like her mum and _feel_ like her mum. She missed her dad, who would hover awkwardly in the doorway, not knowing what to do, and would later come in with a cup of tea and a serious expression and tell her that she was a smart kid and she’d figure it out.

She missed her stupid little brothers, as loud and annoying as they could be. Ken was a year younger than her and was at an age where he believed girls had cooties and enjoyed putting bugs and crawlies in his sister’s hair. Jo was only two years old and had a bad habit of putting anything he could get his hands on into his mouth, including some of Su’s favourite sparkly barrettes and iPod headphones.

But they were also incredibly sweet, sometimes. Su remembered Jo plucking a flower from a garden and pressing the half-crushed blossom into her hand, a wide smile on his face. She remembered Ken playing chess with her, very seriously studying the board while they played. He’d only gloated a _little_ when he’d won.

“It’s okay,” Beatrice murmured softly, holding Su while she cried. “It’s okay.”

* * *

  
Su stumbled out of the fireplace, coughing. Behind her Beatrice appeared in a flash of green flames. Beatrice wiped the ash from her face with a handkerchief and offered a spare to Su, who gratefully accepted.

“Nate?” Beatrice called out. “Nate, I’m home! I’ve brought a guest!”

“I’m in the kitchen, Bea!”

Beatrice smiled and gently guided Su through the house, towards the kitchen.

Su was finding it hard not to stare. The room she’d had in the Department of Mysteries had been pretty sparse, with undecorated walls and only her hospital bed and a bedside table as furniture. There hadn’t been much for her to see there, and she hadn’t been allowed to explore the rest of the Department.

But now there were things to see _everywhere_. A wizard’s house wasn’t enormously different from a regular house. The living room had couches and a coffee table, and bookcases and shelves full of photographs and knickknacks. But the photographs were moving, and peering curiously at their new houseguest, and the knickknacks were things like hovering toy brooms and sleeping little gold cat statuettes with actual moving tails.

The house wasn’t very big – from what Su could see there was only the living room, two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a kitchen-dining area – but she liked it. Mostly because she noticed that there were books crammed into every possible corner, on every subject imaginable.

She could see titles like _A History of Time-Travel: Past and Future_ by Martin McDowell; _Mythical Creatures That Really Do Exist_ by Xenophilius Lovegood; _The Narnia Myth_ by Icarus Smoke; and _Aeroplanes: Can Muggles Fly?_ by Tamara Knoll.

Would she someday be able to perform some of the spells in _Advanced Travel Charms_ or _101 Useful Transfigurations_? She’d always been fascinated by the magic shown in the books, but Su imagined that an entire universe of magic would contain possibilities that she’d never even considered.

Beatrice giggled softly and gave Su a little nudge, startling out of her book-lust trance. Blushing a little, Su allowed herself to be led into the kitchen where Nathan Li was cooking dinner. Su watched, fascinated, as he chopped vegetables manually while behind him on the stove a pot was stirring itself, and another spoon was serving rice into bowls without assistance.

 _Magic is amazing_ , she thought. _And it’s so ordinary for them._

“Nathan?” said Beatrice, placing her hands on Su’s shoulders.

“Yeah, Bea?”

“Guest?”

“Oh! Right!” Nathan put the knife down and span around, smiling widely. Su giggled a little at the bright green apron tied around his waist with the words _Kiss Me I’m Irish_ written on it in flashing letters. “Hello – Su, right? Come in – don’t be shy. Beatrice has told me all about you – only the good stuff of course. I hear you can hop on one foot for half an hour while singing Spanish Opera? Is that right?”

Su giggled and shook her head.

“Hmmm, no? Really? Well can you juggle with your feet? Eat an entire warthog? Play the concertina?” He mimed playing an accordion, hopping from foot to foot like a fool. Su kept giggling and kept shaking her head.

“Well, I never,” Nathan gasped, dramatically holding a hand to his heart. “Beatrice, what tall tales have you been feeding me about this lovely young lady?”

“Oh, knock it off, Nate,” Beatrice rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”

“Me too,” Su agreed.

“Nothing fancy,” Nathan shrugged. “Just some chicken rice and stir-fried vegetables. I didn’t realise we were expecting company, or I would have tried harder to impress you. Roast pork belly or steamed fish or my Nan’s curry.”

“It smells really good, though,” Su smiled.

“I’m glad,” Nathan grinned. “We’ll cook up something more interesting together over the weekend, maybe? Can you cook?”

“Only pancakes,” Su admitted. “But I’d like to learn.”

Nathan’s smile was warm and soft.

“I’d love to teach you,” he said.

Su liked Nathan – he was friendly and patient and didn’t talk down to her in the way some grown-ups did. He treated her like a child, but not like an idiot. She guessed that Beatrice had told him at least some of what had happened to her, if not everything, because he spoke very carefully and deliberately, especially when he talked about his family.

Su learned that Nathan was one of four children – he had two older sisters and one younger brother – and that his family was quite close, though only one of his sisters still lived in the UK. He was a potions master and loved to cook – two interests that he strongly believed were tied together – and worked largely from home, shipping potions to customers by owl or portkey-stamps.

Before she knew it, they had finished both dinner and dessert – sticky date pudding with butterscotch sauce – and her eyelids were growing heavy. She found herself nodding off at the table, struggling to keep her eyes open.

“Tired, Su?” Beatrice asked kindly.

“No-oooo,” Su shook her head, yawning halfway through the word. “’M not.”

Nathan and Beatrice exchanged a wry look and then turned back to Su.

“The guest room’s just this way,” Beatrice smiled and led Su to her room. The room was bigger than Su expected, containing a whole wall of bookshelves with sliding glass doors, a number of tables cluttered with potions-making equipment like a mad-scientist’s laboratory, and a small bed shoved into the corner next to a narrow wardrobe and the door to an ensuite bathroom.

“It used to be Nate’s workshop,” Beatrice admitted. “But we’re building another one and we’ll be able to move most of this stuff out of your way in the next few days.”

“Maybe he can –“ _yawn_ “– teach me,” Su murmured sleepily.

“Maybe he can,” Beatrice smiled, helping Su into bed and tucking her in.

Su hummed, a smile tucked into the corner of her mouth.

She fell asleep almost instantly.

* * *

  
“How’s the paperwork going?” Nathan asked quietly.

“It’s almost done,” Beatrice sighed. “Madeleine coordinated with the Hong Kong Department of Mysteries and fabricated an Unspeakable there who had a fatal accident. As far as the Ministry is concerned, Su is an orphaned halfblood from the colony. The adoption papers should come through tomorrow.”

“Blood adoption?”

Beatrice shook her head.

“The girl has been through enough already. She may not want such a permanent change… But it’s too soon to tell. Maybe later, when everyone is settled, and we have time to talk about it.”

“She’s registered for Hogwarts?”

“Where else would she go?”

“Beauxbatons has a portkey commute,” Nate suggested.

“I don’t think Su speaks French,” Beatrice shook her head.

“A boarding school though…” Nathan frowned.

“We have a year,” Beatrice reminded him. “We have a year to help her adjust, to teach her things so that she doesn’t stand out too much. We have time, Nate.”

Nathan shook his head, but dropped the subject.

“She seems sweet,” he said.

“She’s very bright,” Beatrice agreed, smiling softly. “A shoo-in for Ravenclaw I imagine.”

“ _Ravenclaw_ ,” Nathan scoffed. “That’s your house pride talking.”

Beatrice grinned, eyes sparkling.

“She’s been very _brave_ , all things considered,” she hummed. “Maybe red’s more her colour.”

“Oh, shut up,” Nathan rolled his eyes.

“You’ll be all right with her tomorrow? Do you think I should take the day off work, help her adjust to the house?”

“We’ll be okay, Bea,” Nathan smiled. “We’ll just have a quiet day in. I don’t imagine she has enough energy to be too much of a handful.”

“Famous last words,” Beatrice smirked. “But I’ll trust you – just this once.”

“Your confidence in me is inspiring,” Nathan drawled, leaning forward to kiss his wife. Beatrice just giggled.

* * *

  
Su dreamed of falling. She was Alice down the rabbit-hole, falling down, down, down, past witches on broomsticks and floating cauldrons stirring themselves and a rabbit with Pearl’s voice reading a recipe for pasta out loud.

And then she was in the dark, falling towards a cloud of silver mist and then falling through it. She tried to scream and grab for the light, but it slipped through her fingers as she fell away. The light grew smaller and smaller as she fell, and Su knew that she would be trapped in the darkness forever, all alone in the blackness.

She woke up sweating.

In the early morning light, the potion’s-lab-turned-guest-room was pale and ghostly – all the metal gleamed silvery and cold. Su shivered and stepped out of bed, feeling the cold of the floorboards even through her socks.

Quietly she padded into the kitchen, looking for a glass of water.

Nathan was already awake, sorting through a pile of letters and drinking tea. On the stove a self-stirring pot bubbled with congee. Su’s mouth watered at the smell.

“Good morning,” she mumbled.

Nathan looked up from his letters and smiled softly at her.

“Good morning,” he said. “Tea?”

Su nodded and Nathan stood up to find her a mug. While he busied himself in the kitchen Su investigated the nearest pile of books, perched on the edge of the dining table. There was a copy of _The International Journal of Alchemy_ underneath a hardcover of _Poisons of the Mind, Potions for the Soul_ and stacked on top of a catalogue for mail-order magical herbs.

“Would you like to read something?” Nathan asked.

Su nearly jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t realised that he’d come up behind her, holding out a second mug of tea for her.

“Sorry,” he winced. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

Su shrugged.

“Here,” he handed her the mug of tea and then walked over to a bookshelf in the living room, shoving piles of books right and left so he could look at the books behind them. “I’ve got something you might like, probably a bit more at your level… Aha!”

He pulled a book off the shelf and raised it above his head in victory.

“For you,” he said, holding it out to her. “If you like.”

Shyly, clutching her tea in one hand, Su took the offered book. _Potions For All Occasions: Volume 1._ It was clearly well handled, and when she opened the cover she saw the words “Property of Nathan Li” scrawled on the title page.

“It’s mine,” Nathan said, stating the obvious. “From school,” he clarified, stating the slightly less obvious. “It was my potions book in first-year. I, uh, may have written some– a lot– of notes in it. But it’s a good place to start. If you were interested. Which you might not be– potions aren’t for everyone but–”

He cut himself off, realising that Su was no longer listening. No longer listening because she’d beamed at him and then immediately sat at the table to read the book, sipping at her tea.

The book was fascinating, filled with Nathan’s notes about possible adjustments to the recipes based on ingredient interactions, with references to his first and second-year herbology texts, which Nathan obligingly dug up so that Su could cross-reference as she read.

Beatrice entered the kitchen soon afterwards and found her husband and her newest house guest mechanically spooning congee into their mouths without noticing the taste, entirely caught up in their reading – Su with her potion’s textbook and Nathan frowning over _The Daily Prophet_ , with a copy of _The Quibbler_ by his elbow.

She smiled, glad that Su and Nathan had bonded over something that she could share equally with them. Reading was apparently a passion for the whole– well, not _family_ , exactly– but the whole household.

Neither Su nor Nathan noticed when Beatrice served herself some congee and sat down next to them, though her husband smiled at her when she knocked his elbow with hers, before refocusing his attention on the latest article about Cornelius Fudge and Lucius Malfoy working together in the Ministry.

Beatrice remembered Fudge from school – a low-level Slytherin with high ambition, but without much independent thought. He was charismatic, certainly, but not much of a thinker. Beatrice worried about Lucius Malfoy’s obvious influence over Fudge, especially with regards to the Ministry budget.

A ridiculous amount of money was being put into useless endeavours, like the building of a new wing for the Ministry’s Department of Magical Games and Sports – which was full of Pureblood heirs with very little to do except play indoor Quidditch in their new stadium – and there was not enough funding being put into more active departments, including Magical Law Enforcement, the Department of Mysteries, and the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.

While Beatrice frowned over how she and Locke would have to approach the bureaucrats at the Ministry for more funding, Su was absorbed in Nathan’s potions book. The process of potion-making was fascinating, though Su doubted she’d ever memorise any of these complicated recipes, which included directional stirring – clockwise or widdershins, for a certain number of stirs – and occasionally lined up with the phases of the moon or the alignment of planets or the weather.

She had three books spread open in front of her, having started reading with Nate’s Potion’s textbook and then been distracted by the uses of ingredients as detailed in _The Potion Master’s Comprehensive Guide to All Useful Ingredients and Their Properties_ by Damocles Belby, and then distracted again when cross-referencing with an old, dusty tome labelled _Potent Potions: First Steps and Preparations_ by Deimos Black.

 _She’ll be a Ravenclaw for sure_ , Beatrice thought, shaking her head and smiling fondly.

“I’ve got work now,” she told Nathan. “Why don’t you and Su get to know each other? Maybe you can teach her some potions basics?”

“I was thinking we’d clean up her room first.”

“Why can’t we do both?” Su asked, looking up from her book. “We can clean up the room first and then practice a potion. Maybe one that won’t take too long?”

Nathan grinned at her.

“Sounds like a plan, champ.”

They waved Beatrice off as she flooed to work and then turned to each other.

“So, where do we start?” Su asked, hands on hips.

“We’ll keep it simple, I think,” Nathan said, leading her back to her room. “We’ll clear out my things, put aside a couple of cauldrons to play with later, and then we’ll get your room fit for living. I’m a bit rusty at transfiguration, but I can at least whip you up a rug for the floor.”

He started shrinking his potions equipment and transfigured a nearby stool into a crate that Su could put everything into.

“Can you teach me that? Transfiguration?” Su asked.

“Not yet, kid. At the moment you’re too young be taught really complex magic – even something as apparently simple as making a rug.”

“Why, though?”

 _Why_ , Nathan thought, _a Ravenclaw’s favourite word._

“How old are you again, Su? Not quite ten, yet?”

“I’ll be ten in July.”

“Right,” Nathan nodded. “At the moment, your magical core is still developing, it’s not quite stable. It’s changing from a– a sort of wild thing into something more contained. Instead of responding to your emotions and primal fears and desires as it has for all your accidental magic, it is instead becoming more attuned to your _will_ and your ability to use magic deliberately.”

Su mulled over this for a few moments, puzzling it out.

“So kids can only use magic accidentally, but when you get older you can only use magic on purpose?”

Nathan squinted at her and tilted his head. Teaching was harder than he thought.

“Yes and no,” he said. “You can still do magic on purpose from a young age – that’s why you go to school and learn it. But there are some things you can’t do because your magic is too– too untrained. Sometimes magic needs to be controlled in a very specific way, or you need a lot of magical power to perform a spell. Most kids your age don’t have the precision or the strength to do more complicated or powerful magic.”

Su frowned.

“It’s kind of like this,” Nathan said, picking up a cauldron and setting it next to Su. The cauldron was cast-iron and big enough that she could put her head inside it. “I can carry this cauldron pretty easily, because I’m a fully grown man and I’m used to carrying heavy things. Now you try it.”

Su tried to pick up the cauldron, but only managed to hold it up for a few moments before she dropped it back on the ground with a loud _BANG!_

“Your body is still developing, and you’re not strong enough to carry the cauldron. Even when you do grow strong enough to carry the cauldron it would take a lot of time, training, and effort for you to carry it long distances, for example.”

“So magic is kind of like a muscle? That you have to exercise?”

“Yes. Magic is like a muscle. It’s also like any other skill that you have to practice to become precise in. Like painting. You have to practice a lot before you’re able to paint with fine and exact detail. In the same way, you have to develop your skills in magic a lot in order to perform fine and exact charms or transfigurations.”

“That’s really cool, Uncle.”

Nathan fumbled a little behind Su as she packed shrunken potions equipment into the crate. _Uncle_ Nathan. He’d probably have to get used to that.

“Can you tell me more about magic?”

“Well… what do you know about Hogwarts?”

“That’s…” Su hesitated. She knew about Hogwarts, of course, but how much could she let slip? What would happen if she told Beatrice and Nathan that the world they lived in was just a story? They’d probably lock her up as a crazy person. “Hogwarts is the school for witches and wizards, isn’t it?”

“That’s right,” Nathan smiled. “Hogwarts has been the biggest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the UK for the last thousand years.”

“Are there other schools?”

“There are a few – some small, local schools in the country, a few bigger ones on the continent, like Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Those three – Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang – are the schools most British wizards attend. But obviously there are schools of magic on every continent, and then there are the apprenticeships, too.”

“Apprenticeships?”

“Well, if you want to be a Potions Master, like me, you have to take a potions apprenticeship under a guild-approved Potions Master who will teach you the advanced aspects of potions-making beyond what you might generally learn in school. Or if you want to be a broom-maker or wand-maker, you have to apprentice under the masters in the field.”

“What about doctors?” Su asked.

“Doctors… you mean Healers? It’s a little bit different for Healers – there are actually special schools for Healers-in-Training, and a lot of those are closely tied to magical hospitals like St. Mungo’s.”

Su tugged her ear, absorbing all this information.

“So what school am I going to?” she asked, though she suspected she already knew.

“Well… when you’re eleven, I expect you’ll receive your Hogwarts letter,” Nathan shrugged. “Bea and I both went to Hogwarts. It’s a great school. It’s had a bad run with Defence Professors recently though, so you might need a bit of tutoring in that.”

Su nodded, thinking about the ever-changing rotation of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professors in the Harry Potter books. There was definitely something there.

“Hogwarts is a boarding school,” Nathan went on. “So you’ll be living there during the school term with your house-mates. There are four houses at Hogwarts – Slytherin, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. Each house has their own values and their own reputation. Just remember that no matter what their house is, every student at Hogwarts is a complete person – they’re not defined by the colours they wear. Just because someone is a Hufflepuff, don’t assume that they’re slow-witted or un-ambitious. Not all Slytherins are, well… Slytherin has a rather unfortunate reputation for being, er, ‘evil’. We’re not evil. Just… ambitious and driven.”

“You’re a Slytherin?” Su blinked in surprise. She hadn’t really thought about what houses Beatrice and Nathan might have been in, but Slytherin would not have occurred to her. She winced at that thought – she’d fallen into the trap of thinking all Slytherins were evil, like Malfoy and Voldemort.

“I was,” Nathan nodded. “Look, when you go to Hogwarts, the house you join will seem like the most important thing in the world. For some people, that’s still true even after we graduate. But not every witch and wizard in the world goes to Hogwarts, and when you leave school and go out into the world you’ll find that it’s so much bigger than green, blue, red, and yellow. Your house does not define you, Su. _You_ define you. Whatever house you join in school, the most important thing is to embody the best traits of all the houses.”

“What are those?”

“Slytherins are ambitious and cunning – they value patience and strong will. Ravenclaws are intelligent and studious, but also creative and full of wonder. Hufflepuffs may be a friendly, easy-going house, but they also value hard work and open-mindedness.”

“What about Gryffindor?”

Nathan winced.

“I’ll admit, I did not have the best relationship with most Gryffindors,” he sighed. “There’s a _very_ strong rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Just because I’m not defined by my house _now_ doesn’t mean that I didn’t get caught up in all of that in school.” He shook his head and put a hand on Su’s shoulder.

“That being said – Gryffindor is supposed to be the brave and courageous house. The best of them stand up for what’s right and protect their friends, even when it might get them in trouble. It’s better to do what is right, than what is easy.”

“What house do you think I’ll be in?”

 _Ravenclaw,_ Nathan thought, but then shook his head. He, of all people, should know that curiosity and intelligence could be found in any house. The Sorting Hat looked beyond the surface when it made its decisions, even if sometimes it was hard to fully understand its sortings in the beginning, everything made sense by the end.

“No one can really know what house they might be in until they go to Hogwarts. The sorting is… a mysterious process.”

 _You put a hat on your head_ , Su thought. _It’s not that mysterious_.

“How does it work?” She asked, just to be cheeky.

Nathan smirked, all Slytherin.

“Now that would be telling,” he said. “It’s traditional that first years go to Hogwarts without knowing how the sorting works. It’ll be a nice surprise for you when you get there.”

“Sure it will,” Su rolled her eyes. She’d bet that there would be books around about the Sorting Hat somewhere, probably in one of the histories about Hogwarts and the Hogwarts founders. She thought that the Hat might have once been Gryffindor’s, but she wasn’t completely sure.

Using magic, it didn’t take them long to clean up the room. Su watched, fascinated, as Nathan transfigured an old teacup into a brightly patterned rug, and turned the matching saucer into a lamp for her desk.

“We’ll buy you some other things tomorrow,” Nathan promised. “A wardrobe and some art, maybe. Clothes, definitely. Really make it yours. But I think this will do for now. What do you think?”

“It’s nice,” Su admitted, shyly. It was a bit bare and she thought she might want to paint the walls or something, but it was nice. It just wasn’t home.

Nathan noticed her slight shift in mood and put an arm around her shoulders.

“I know you miss your family, kid,” he said. “I know it’s hard. But you’re a really brave girl, you know? And Bea and I are here for you.”

 _I’m not brave_ , Su thought. _I’m just here. There’s nothing I can do about it_.

“Thanks, Nathan.”

“Come on, kiddo,” he nudged her and grinned. “Let’s go make some potions. We’ll start off with something simple.”

* * *

  
“Miss Li, welcome back to the Department of Mysteries,” said Locke. “How are you adjusting to living with Beatrice and Nathan?”

“They’re really nice,” Su grinned up at Beatrice. “We went to Diagon Alley this week to buy some things for my room. And Nate’s been teaching me about potions.”

“That’s good,” Locke smiled. “I’m glad things are working out. Now, did Beatrice explain what you’re doing here today?”

“You want to make sure that I’m not dying, right?” Su hadn’t fully understood Beatrice’s spiel about regular visits to the DoM, but the gist of it had been ‘health checks’ to monitor her adjustment to being beyond the veil.

The Department of Mysteries were concerned about Su’s health, especially after the fragile state she’d been in when she first came out of the Veil. She was also an incredible and rare opportunity – as far as they knew, no one had ever come from beyond the Veil in the thousand years they’d been monitoring it – and they wanted to study the girl. Therein lay another problem, however. Su was just a little girl and no matter how curious they were in the DoM, they weren’t monsters that would cut up a child just to see what answers she might offer.

Hence, the health check ups.

“That’s right,” Beatrice nodded. “Once a month Pearl will conduct a full physical, just to make sure that you’re okay. Coming through the veil was a big ordeal and we just want to make sure that you stay healthy and happy.”

She hesitated and glanced at Locke, who pursed her lips.

“Su, I want you to listen to me,” said Locke, bending down and leaning in close so that she was eye-level with Su. “We Unspeakables want to keep you safe, you know that right?”

Su nodded.

“Well, that won’t always be the case. You’re a very unusual girl – no one has ever come through the Veil before. There are people out there who would– who would hurt you, if they knew. They’d do terrible things to you to figure out your secrets.”

Su frowned and shrank back into Beatrice’s arms.

“I’m not telling you to scare you,” Locke sighed. “I’m telling you the truth to protect you. For your own safety, never tell anyone where you came from. We’ll come up with a story together, as close to the truth as possible, about why you’re living with Beatrice and Nathan. But never tell anyone outside the Department about the Veil. It’s a terrible and powerful secret and it could get you badly hurt.”

“Do you understand, Su?” Beatrice asked.

“I do,” Su whispered, shaking. She hadn’t really thought about it, before, how dangerous her situation might be. It was scary being in another universe, and she was slowly coming to terms with the loss of her family and everything she’d known before, but the idea that this world might be _dangerous_ instead of just magical…

She should have known. She already knew that Voldemort was going to come back – she’d read enough of the Harry Potter books to know that. She also knew that Harry would eventually defeat Voldemort, since the hero always wins in stories, eventually. But she also knew that people would die – people like Cedric and Sirius – and possibly people like her.

It was suddenly very difficult to breathe. She gasped for breath but her lungs wouldn’t fill right. Her head felt heavy and she could feel the blood pulsing under her skin, trying to escape her body.

“Su?”

Beatrice’s voice sounded hazy and faraway. Su barely noticed when she fell to the floor; too busy pressing her hands to her chest to keep her fast-beating heart where it was. Had breathing always been this hard? She couldn’t see anything except her untied shoelace. She was hunched over her knees trying to inhale. Her body was not her body. She wanted to cry but she didn’t know if she could even do that.

Someone pressed a glass vial to her lips and Su drank without thinking. She coughed when some of the potion went down the wrong pipe and she choked a little on the potion.

It was a fast-acting calming draught and Su was able to breathe again within minutes. She felt floaty and hazy as she blinked up at Beatrice and Locke. There was some part of her still screaming in her mind, some part of her that didn’t like this false calmness, some part that was still panicking under the potion, but the rest of her was just happy to be breathing again.

“Are you okay, Su?” Beatrice asked.

“Of course she’s not, Li,” said Locke, helping Su to her feet. “I didn’t mean to scare her like that.”

“She’s only nine,” Beatrice murmured.

“Maybe you should come back tomorrow.”

“But—”

“The calming draught will interfere with Pearl’s readings,” Locke pointed out. “And she’s been through a lot today already.”

“I want to see Pearl,” said Su, blinking away the haze of the calming potion. She could feel the fog of it on her brain, still, but she bit her tongue to sharpen her senses. “I’m– I’m not okay. But he’ll make sure that I am.”

“We can come back tomorrow, Su.”

“We can come tomorrow, too,” Su nodded. “But – I want to know. That I’m okay. I don’t want that to happen again.”

Beatrice and Locke exchanged a glance. Finally Locke sighed and nodded.

“Pearl is waiting for you anyway,” she said. “But tell him nothing too strenuous, Li.”

“I promise.”

Beatrice left Su in the corridor while she went to speak to Pearl – probably about all the things he could and could not do. Su busied herself by practicing magic again, trying to move a quill with her mind.

Practicing magic was helping clear what was left of the calming draught from her mind. Her body was slowly beginning to feel less heavy and clunky as well. She couldn’t do much with the quill other than make it float slowly up and down, but she thought that if she kept practicing she might be able to make figure-eights or something soon.

“Hey, kiddo.”

Su yelped and the quill fell to the floor. An Asian man waved at her sheepishly.

“Who’re you?”

“Uh, I’m Alfred Yao. You might not remember me – I was working on the Veil when you came through.”

“Oh. Hi. I’m Su.”

“I know,” Yao smiled. “May I sit?” He gestured to the chair opposite her.

Su shrugged.

“That was some pretty impressive magic I saw,” he said, smiling.

“I can’t do anything,” Su shook her head. “I can only make it float.”

“That’s more than most people,” said Yao. “Even at my age. Especially at my age, actually. Kids have an easier time of it – not set in their ways. Most people don’t practice wandless magic these days. Not in Britain, anyway. You should keep it up.”

“Really?”

“It’s a good skill. Not much you can really do with it. But it’ll help other things.”

“How does that work?”

“Practicing wandless magic helps refine your control and your power. If you start now, when you get older you’ll be able to do some really precise spells or some really powerful magic.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Su grinned.

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Are you helping Pearl check up on me?”

“Not today. Pearl’s a Healer, so he focuses more on the body and what’s happening to you physically. But I’ll help later.”

“What do you do?”

“I investigate magical cores and the origins of magic.”

“What’s that like?”

Yao laughed.

“Pretty difficult actually,” he admitted. “Magic can be very personal, for a lot of people, and magical cores can be a touchy subject. It’s private, you know? So most people don’t really like strangers looking at their magical cores.”

“Oh. Well, what do you do then?”

“In the Department? I look at the magical roots of animals and plants, or I go to exhibition duels and duelling tournaments and measure the magical power of spells. It’s not the same as looking at a person’s magical core, but it’s pretty good.”

“Su?” Beatrice peered out from the doorway of Pearl’s office, frowning at Yao.

“Yao and I were just talking,” Su shrugged.

“Yeah?”

“I’ll see you around, kiddo,” Yao grinned and ruffled Su’s hair.

“See you,” Su waved at him, also grinning. She felt better after talking to Yao.

“Come on, Pearl’s ready for you,” Beatrice took Su’s hand and led her into Pearl’s office.

Unlike the rest of the Department of Mysteries, which was mostly black marble and flaming torches in iron sconces, Pearl’s office was made up of light colours and bright white lighting. Unlike his serious disposition, Pearl’s office was almost sunny, with pastel blue walls and a sunflower growing in the corner.

“Su,” Pearl nodded at her.

“Pearl,” Su smiled at him, hopping up onto his examining table.

“You’ve been eating well,” Pearl observed.

“How can you tell?”

Pearl explained the spells he was using and what the results were telling him as Beatrice watched anxiously from the corner. Most of Pearl’s tests revealed that Su was healthy, but she’d known Pearl longer than Su, and had explicitly told him to keep any distressing news from the girl unless it was of immediate concern. She saw the slight frown on his face as he cast spells to measure the strength of her bones and the state of her mind.

Nathan came to pick Su up from the Department soon afterwards.

“What do you want for dinner, Bea?”

“Whatever Su wants. Maybe pasta?”

“Sounds good.”

She waited until the door shut behind them to talk to Pearl.

“What did you find?”

“She’s healthy, for the most part,” he said. “Small for her age – but that’s from her genealogy, not her health. She’s been eating well. Not as much as she could be, but a lack of appetite makes sense given her circumstances.”

“Anything concerning?”

“Her bones are weak— the damage they suffered when she first came through the Veil has had its effects. I can give you a bone-strengthening potion, but there’s only so much it can do.”

“Is there a more effective solution?”

“Vanishing her bones and giving her Skele-Gro, but that could be even more dangerous. It’s not just limbs – it’s her entire skeleton. It would be very painful for her.”

Beatrice sighed and slumped in the chair by Pearl’s desk.

“It shouldn’t be too much trouble,” Pearl reassured her. “Her bones are a touch more fragile than most witches her age, but unless she’s playing Quidditch or throwing herself off tables, she should be fine. You know how to heal broken bones.”

“Anything else?”

“She— her mind is fractured. It’s hard to tell in what way, or how to fix it. Like her skeleton, her mind is functional, but there are parts of it that are… murky. I’m not sure how else to explain it. I think her memory has been damaged or altered in some way. It’s hard to tell what effects are from the Veil and what may be from her death itself. You know that the Wizarding World hasn’t made much progress in mind-magics and mind healing in the last two hundred years.”

“I know.”

“I’ll keep an eye on things and do some research to help her. For now, she’s fine, but we’ll monitor her progress.”

“Thank you, Pearl.”

“You’re welcome.”

* * *

  
The backstory that the Li’s had come up with for Su was fairly simple and close to the truth. They pretended that Su was the daughter of some of Nathan’s many cousins, very distantly related, and it was easy for Su to refer to them as ‘Aunt Beatrice’ and ‘Uncle Nate’.

The difference in the story was that Su’s ‘parents’ had died, and sent Su to live with her relatives in Britain from Australia. The official story was that she was a half-blood raised among muggles, to explain her muggle leanings and lack of knowledge about the Wizarding World.

Though Beatrice and Nate were teaching her as much as they could about the Wizarding World, and Yao, Locke, and Pearl also told her stories, Su worried that she wouldn’t fit in at school the way she was supposed to.

So she did as Hermione had done and studied hard, looking at history books and potions books and practicing magic as much as she could. Under Nathan’s tutelage she was becoming pretty good at basic potions and was even able to adapt some potions recipes based on the knowledge of ingredients and tools she was given.

Nathan had almost cried tears of pride when she’d completed a Wide Eye potion without any assistance from him. She was also getting pretty good at wandless levitation and some cleaning and cooking spells when Nate wasn’t looking.

He caught her once and Su bowed her head in shame. She knew that underage witches and wizards weren’t supposed to do magic outside of school – which she thought was silly, because how else would they practice? – but she didn’t think it could hurt.

“This house is warded,” Nathan explained to her. “So you won’t get in trouble from the Ministry for practicing underage. But it can be dangerous, Su. You don’t have full control of your magic yet. If something goes wrong, you could get hurt.”

“I understand.”

“Good. I don’t want you practicing magic unless Bea or I are here to supervise.”

Su perked up.

“You’re still in trouble, young lady,” Nate admonished, though he couldn’t quite hide his grin. It was pretty impressive magic for a nine-year-old. “I want you to clean the kitchen – by hand, this time. Tomorrow we can review some _very basic_ spells you can perform without a wand. Understood?”

“Yes, Uncle Nate.”

Slowly Su adjusted to her new life.

She still cried sometimes, when she thought of the family she’d left behind. She missed her mum and dad and even her silly little brothers. She missed her friends at school, and even school itself. Apparently there weren’t public schools for witches and wizards until they turned eleven, so Nathan was her home-school teacher, tutoring her in reading, writing, history, and potions.

In July she got to meet some of Nathan’s family, Tai Gong (his mother’s father), Tai Po (his mother’s mother), Mama (his mother), Yeye (his father) and his sister and her family. He promised she could meet his other sister and his brother another time, probably during the Lunar New Year.

Cho had just come back from her first year at Hogwarts, and Su was so excited to hear about school that she almost forgot that Cho Chang was one of the characters in the books she’d read, until Cho said that she was going to try for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team in her second year.

“I’m not sure that I’ll get it though,” Cho frowned. “A lot of people want to be the Seeker. Seekers get all the glory. But I just like flying, and Seekers get to do the most exciting stunts!”

“I’m sure you’ll get it,” Su said, entirely positive.

“I don’t know, Su.”

“Well, you’re small, right? Seekers have to be small and agile. You’ve got that already. And you can practice flying over the summer. I’m sure you’ll be a great Seeker!”

“Thanks, Su,” Cho smiled. “I hope you’re in Ravenclaw next year. We can hang out all the time then.”

“You’d still hang out with me even if I wasn’t in Ravenclaw, right?” Su asked.

“Of course!” Cho hugged her tightly. “We’re family now. Family looks out for each other. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll fit right in at Hogwarts.”

“I hope so.”

Slowly the Changs left the Li house, going back home for dinner and to rest up for work the next day, until only Tai Gong and Tai Po were left, talking quietly with Nathan and Beatrice by the fireplace.

“— and who knows what that Potter boy will be like,” Tai Gong was saying, scowling at the fire. “Missing for ten years, and famous at that! All the potential for being worse than his father.”

“James wasn’t that bad,” Beatrice murmured.

“Not to you!” Tai Gong snapped. Nathan sighed.

“Not to me, either, GongGong,” said Nathan. “Not really.”

“No respect for Slytherins,” Tai Gong scoffed. “The whole family. Not all of us are blood-obsessed hooligans. But of course the Potters thought they were so much better than us. Charlus was always so suspicious at Potions Guild events, as though I’d do something as classless as poison his wine! I was horrified by his death! Such a brilliant potioneer! And a good man, for all his faults. But arrogant. Just like his son. I do hope the boy doesn’t follow their footsteps.”

“They were good men,” said Beatrice.

“I know that!” Tai Gong snapped. “Good men! But prejudiced. And arrogant. It’s what got them killed – thinking they were so clever. A damn shame. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name, _phah!_ He’s killed half the best minds of your generation, and most of mine! I hope the children have better luck.”

“You-Know-Who is gone, GongGong,” said Nathan. “And Harry Potter is only a child, like Su and Cho. I’m sure after his first year at Hogwarts things will settle down. When people see he’s just a regular wizard like the other boys his age there will be no need for anyone to make a fuss.”

Su winced at that, knowing in advance how eventful Harry’s years at Hogwarts would be – her years at Hogwarts, now that she thought about it. Voldemort would show up just about every year one way or another.

But she did wonder – how did everyone know Voldemort’s name if no one liked to say his name? Surely all the kids who went to Hogwarts must’ve heard it at some point? Or was it like Elvis Presley – everyone just knew the name without really knowing why or how they knew it?

“What’s wrong, Su?” Beatrice asked, noticing her looking at them.

“I was just wondering,” she said. “Why do you say ‘You-Know-Who’? I don’t know who. Who is he? What’s his name?”

“Well,” Beatrice glanced at Nathan and his grandparents, who were all frowning warily at Su. “Before you were born there was a really evil wizard. He killed a lot of people. But there were a lot of people who fought back, as well. People who weren’t afraid of him. But You-Know-Who’s greatest power was fear, and he put a magical taboo on his name. Death Eaters – those were his followers – would attack anyone who said his name.”

“What’s a magical taboo?”

“It’s, uh, it’s kind of like the tag put on underage wizard’s wands—”

 _The WHAT?_ Su’s eyes widened in surprise.

“The Ministry can use one of the origin stones in the ley lines–” Su had _so many questions_ about that sentence, “– to track certain words. But only words with power, like certain spells, or unique names. Words that have magical weight. Early in the war You-Know-Who found a way to do the same thing with his own name. People became afraid to say his name because they’d be attacked for it.”

“Oh.”

“These were very dark times, Su,” said Tai Po, who’d been quiet for some time. “We lost a lot of good friends to You-Know-Who and his followers. Most of our classmates from Hogwarts are dead. You’re very lucky to live in a world without him.”

Su was quiet for a long time, thinking about what she’d learned. Later, when Tai Po and Tai Gong had left, she padded into Nathan and Beatrice’s room and sat on the end of their bed.

Without speaking, they lifted her into bed between them and tucked the sheets around her. The three of them lay in silence for a little while, all of them disquieted by the conversation they’d had that evening.

“What was the name?” Su whispered.

“I don’t think—”

“Voldemort,” Nathan cut Beatrice off. “His name was Voldemort. I don’t want you saying that name, Su. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named may be gone, but there were a lot of people hurt by him and I don’t want you bringing it up. Everyone you go to school with will know someone who died. It’s a sensitive topic.”

“How did Harry Potter defeat him? Wasn’t he only a baby?”

“That’s the great mystery,” Beatrice whispered. “All we know is that he survived the killing curse, reflecting it back on the Dark Lord.”

“How do we know that?”

“Everyone knows that.”

“But _how_ do you know?” Su repeated, frustrated.

“ _Ravenclaw_ ,” Beatrice mouthed at Nate over Su’s head.

“Dumbledore,” Nate said, nodding at his wife. “After the Potters were attacked, Albus Dumbledore made a statement to _the Daily Prophet_ that Harry Potter had survived the killing curse and defeated You-Know-Who.”

“Let’s not talk about this anymore,” Beatrice sighed, hugging them both. “It’s not nice to think about what happened then.”

Su stopped talking, lying in bed and thinking about what she’d heard. After a while both Nathan and Beatrice fell asleep, their breathing becoming deep and even. Su stayed awake, processing everything she’d heard.

If what Beatrice and Nathan said was true, then things would get a lot worse after Voldemort’s rise before they got better. Probably a lot more people than just Cedric and Sirius would die. Maybe even her. She would be ten at the end of July, and next year she would get her Hogwarts letter and have to take classes with Professor Quirrell, which means she’d be in the same room as Voldemort.

She had about five years to prepare for Voldemort’s eventual return. It was a scary thought and Su could feel her breath coming shorter and shorter as she thought about it, just like at the Department of Mysteries.

She scrambled out of bed, careful not to wake Nathan and Beatrice, and ran out into the living room. The fire was burning low, but it was still warm, and Su crouched beside it as she tried to get her breathing under control.

Her head was pounding and her heartbeat was too fast and it was hard to breathe. She tried to focus on deep breaths, taking deep, stuttering inhales and long shaky exhales.

To get her mind off the inevitable war she practiced wandless levitation again, trying to move cushions from one couch to another. The distraction helped as most of her focus went to moving the cushions. She dropped several cushions on the floor and hardly noticed when her breathing went back to normal because she was so focused on practicing her magic.

She practiced until the fire went out. Beatrice and Nathan found her in the morning, sleeping on the floor surrounded by couch cushions.


	2. The Hogwarts Express

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this chapter last month, but life has been understandably crazy recently. 
> 
> Here in Melbourne COVID restrictions have been fluctuating a bit – originally things were relaxing a little, but then there were a series of new cases and now we're reverting back. I'm working a bit, but crowds still make me anxious and I've been wearing a mask out everywhere. 
> 
> Anyway, I finally got around to editing this chapter and posting it. There will probably be a delay on the next one – I've got a bit of a block on one particular scene – but hopefully not too long.

Su’s Hogwarts acceptance letter arrived a few weeks after her eleventh birthday in July, just a little over a year after she’d arrived in the magical world of witches and wizards and Harry Potter.

For the last year, she’d been adjusting to life as an orphan, learning about the wizarding world with Beatrice and Nathan, practicing her potion-making, and regularly visiting Yao and Pearl at the Department of Mysteries to monitor her health and magical core.

She’d gotten Beatrice and Nathan to enrol her in Muggle School to keep up with her studies in math, English, history, and science, knowing that that would be what her parents would want for her. Though she’d made some friends at school she knew that she wouldn’t see them later on when she went to Hogwarts.

“Maybe after Hogwarts, I can get tutoring,” she said to Beatrice as she waved goodbye to her muggle classmates. “I think I can get a home-schooling certificate or something. That way I can get a normal job, too.”

“A normal job?” Beatrice repeated.

“A muggle job,” Su corrected herself, pursing her lips. She was thinking accounting, like her dad, because she knew that would make her parents happy, but she didn’t know if the wizarding world would help her achieve that goal.

“Maybe,” Beatrice hummed, non-committal. “I’ll see you later, sweetie. Be good for Uncle Nate? Don’t start any complicated potions today – either of you – you have to go shopping for Su’s school things tomorrow.”

“Yes, Aunt Beatrice,” Su rolled her eyes. It had only happened _once_ – maybe three times – that she and Nate had started a complicated potion that required days of concentration just before Beatrice made plans. They’d only done it on purpose once because otherwise Beatrice had threatened – er, promised – to take them to a Ministry of Magic charity gala.

She and Nate agreed that they would only practice making simple potions that day, and it so happened that he had a shipment of blood-replenishing potions he needed to make, which were complicated but not especially time-consuming.

“Are you excited to be going to Hogwarts?” Nathan asked as they set up their cauldrons. “You’ll finally be able to practice some proper magic.”

“I can do proper magic!” Su protested, demonstrating by letting her ‘practice rock’ whiz around her ear in a small loop-the-loop.

She didn’t have panic attacks as often as she had when she first arrived in the wizarding world, but she found that practicing her wandless magic helped distract her and calm her down. She still couldn’t do anything more complicated than levitation and cleaning charms, but it was enough that she could play ‘Seeker’ with Nathan – who had never played Quidditch but liked to pretend.

“You know what I mean,” Nathan rolled his eyes.

“I am,” Su nodded. “There’s so much I want to learn—”

“You know that I’m going to go through your trunk before you go to school, don’t you, Su?”

“But Uncle Nate—”

“I know you’ve been eyeing some of the advanced textbooks – but you have to learn the basics before you can practice complicated charms and transfigurations.”

“You suck,” Su pouted.

 _Ravenclaw for sure_ , Nathan thought, not for the first time. _Maybe Gryffindor, though, with that recklessness_.

“Come on, we’ve got potions to make,” he said, shaking his head.

“Do you think Professor Snape will hate me?” Su asked, nervous. “Because I’ve been practicing potions with you?”

“Um,” Nathan frowned, remembering Snape from school. Not the most pleasant of classmates by any measure. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been writing Cho all year,” Su explained. “She complains about him all the time. He’s so unfair! He only ever gives points to Slytherins, even when students in other houses make better potions! And he _hovers_ so that they get nervous and mess up! He’s a terrible teacher!”

“I don’t disagree,” Nathan murmured. “Snape has never been… a people person. But I don’t think it really matters whether he likes you or not – just as long as you do well in potions, you’ll get the grades that you deserve.”

“I’d better,” Su scowled. She already knew how horrible Snape could be from reading the books, and she was learning as much as she could from Nathan now. She could only hope that she would be able to keep her head down in class and pass without drawing too much attention from Snape.

“I’m sure Cho will look out for you this year,” said Nathan. “She’s a good girl.”

“Even if I’m not in Ravenclaw?” Su asked.

“Even then. You’re family, Su. Family looks out for each other.”

They busied themselves making potions for the rest of the day, poring over Su’s Hogwarts letter while they waited for their cauldrons to simmer. Nathan made a list of things that they would need to buy new and crossed off the things that they already had for her, such as a cauldron and dragonhide gloves.

“We’ll start at Madam Malkin’s,” Nathan suggested. “She can take your measurements in the morning and we’ll pick up your uniform in the afternoon.”

“Can we get some fresh ingredients for my potions kit, too?” Su asked. “I want to be able to practice, still. Cho said there are a bunch of spare labs in the dungeons I can use to study.”

“Only if you have an older student to supervise you,” Nathan warned. “I don’t want you getting into trouble or making any mess.”

“I promise,” Su nodded. “If I’m in Ravenclaw I bet there’ll be loads of older kids who want to practice their potions.”

“We can get lunch at the Leaky Cauldron with Beatrice. She has a break around noon.”

“Which means she won’t be out until three,” Su nodded, knowing how Beatrice could get caught up in her projects.

“Exactly,” Nathan nodded. “So of course we’ll have to detour to Fortescue’s and pick up some ice cream, to pass the time.”

“Yay!”

“What are we so excited about?” Beatrice asked, stepping out of the Floo.

“Nothing!” Su and Nathan exclaimed, adopting expressions of false innocence.

Beatrice sighed and shook her head.

“You two,” she said.

“We’re just planning our day out tomorrow,” Nathan smiled, handing Beatrice a plate of the stir-fry they’d made for lunch.

“I wish I could go with you,” Beatrice sighed.

“We know,” said Su. “But you’re busy at work. We understand.”

“I’m glad you do,” Beatrice smiled. “Su I’ve arranged a check-up with Yao and Pearl for the end of August, just before you leave for school. I want you to write to them at least once a month about how you’re feeling. If you ever feel ill, go to the hospital wing straight away, okay?”

“Okay,” Su nodded.

“Are you excited about tomorrow?” Beatrice asked.

“Definitely!”

* * *

In the morning, Su and Nathan set out for Diagon Alley, itinerary in hand. They were natural planners, Beatrice liked to joke, always making lists. They started with Madam Malkin, who remembered Nathan from his own school days.

“Your daughter?” she asked, smiling at Su.

“Niece.”

“Anything like you?”

“Exactly like me,” Nathan grinned. “A regular potioneer-in-training.”

Su beamed at him.

“Of course,” Madam Malkin nodded. “So you’ll be wanting shorter sleeves? Or sleeves with ties that won’t get into your potions. Some sturdy boots. Stain-proof, burn-proof, easily cleaned?”

“Yes, yes, yes, and yes,” said Nathan.

“And pockets!” Su interjected. “For holding things,” she added when Madam Malkin looked at her. “Like my wand and my notes and a pen and stuff.”

“I see.”

Nathan bartered with Madam Malkin for a little while and then they both went to the apothecary. As potioneers, they both became quite distracted the moment they stepped in the door and spent a couple of hours browsing ingredients, potions books, and eyeing some of the higher-end potion-making equipment.

Nathan found Su staring longingly at a complete set of three silver cauldrons, matching silver apparatus, and a leather bag of expanded ingredients storage for sixty galleons.

“For my birthday?” she begged.

“We already bought you a new pair of boots and eight books!”

“For Christmas?”

“We’ll see,” Nathan laughed. “We still have to buy your school books and a trunk.”

They decided to go to Fortescue’s for ‘lunch’, knowing that Beatrice was still busy at work. There was a crowd at the Leaky Cauldron anyway, though neither of them paid much attention to that.

Nathan got Blueberry-Buzz ice cream, which would make blue bumblebees float around his head for the next half hour, and Su chose a True Rainbow ice cream, which would change the colour of her hair into a rainbow for an hour.

“We’ll go to Flourish and Blott’s last,” said Nathan.

“Why?”

“We just spent two hours at the apothecary,” Nathan reminded her. “You’re even worse with books. Best to get the rest of your school things before we go to the bookstore and spend the rest of the day there.”

“Fine,” Su sighed.

It took them a while to find Su a telescope and a set of scales to her liking, and even longer to find a trunk that she liked.

“What about this one?” Nathan asked.

“I already looked at that one,” Su shook her head. “Too small.”

“It’s just a trunk, Su.”

“It’s an _investment_ ,” she retorted, hearing her mother’s voice in her head as she said it. “It’s going to last seven years – longer if I take care of it. I want the best.”

“I don’t know if we have that much money, Su.”

“You don’t have to buy me anything for Christmas – not even the cauldron set! But this is important, Uncle!”

Nathan groaned and dropped his head against the wall.

“Fine,” he mumbled. “Just– fine.”

Su beamed at him and went back to hunting through her options. Nathan wondered when he got wrapped around an eleven-year-old’s finger.

“It never gets easier,” a wizard nearby chuckled. He was grey-haired and blue-eyed, with very happy wrinkles around his eyes. “My daughter’s a grown woman now, but she could still pout at me and I’d do anything she asked. My granddaughter’s the same, actually. It’s worth it, though. It’s always worth it.”

“Oh, Su’s not my daughter,” Nathan shook his head. “She’s– my niece. We adopted her last year after… well. She’s not my daughter.”

“Adopted? Maybe,” the wizard smiled. “Loved? Definitely. I think that makes her your daughter in all the ways that count.”

Nathan looked back at his little girl, peering at the labels of each trunk with an intense concentration.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Well, what’s she looking for? Maybe I can help.”

“Oh, do you work here?”

“I own the place,” the wizard winked and held out his hand. “Alistair Clearwater.”

“Nathan Li.”

“Come on, let’s talk to the little lady,” Alistair grinned. “It looks like she’s going to be a rather particular customer.”

Nathan laughed.

“I imagine she will be.”

They walked over to Su, who was chatting with an older girl, maybe fifteen or sixteen, about what features basic trunks would need, and what features she could add later on or charm herself.

“I see you’ve already met my granddaughter,” said Alistair as he and Nathan approached. “Penelope, this is Nathan Li. Nathan, my granddaughter Penelope. She’s going to be a prefect at Hogwarts this year.”

“Congratulations,” Nathan smiled. “Su’s starting at Hogwarts this year. It’d be nice if you could keep an eye on her – keep her out of trouble.”

“I’m not trouble!” Su protested.

“I’m sure you’re not,” Nathan laughed. “Alistair, this is Su. Su, this is Alistair Clearwater. He owns the store. Maybe he can help you find what you’re looking for.”

“We’ve already talked about it a bit,” Penelope offered. “I think I can help. It won’t have all the extended compartments you want,” she added, looking at Su. “But if you study hard you might be able to add some extended elements yourself by the end of fifth year. You shouldn’t need that much space besides that until then.”

“And you’re sure?” Su asked, tugging her earlobe. She’d hoped to get all the features she’d need in one go, but being eleven had not really considered the cost for all the extra features she’d need.

“I’m sure,” Penelope smiled, all reassurance. “For Hogwarts, you basically only need enough room for your wardrobe, your equipment, your books, and maybe some bulky items like your telescope and Quidditch gear. You’ll only need more space if you’re planning on travelling with extended tents and lots of bulky items.”

“Okay,” Su nodded. “No portable potions lab?”

Nathan choked on air, while Alistair glanced at him, highly amused.

“No way,” said Nathan, looking sternly at Su. “I don’t have that much money.”

“Fine,” Su sighed. It was worth a shot.

“So what’re we looking for, Penny?” Alistair asked.

“Built-in feather-light, a shrinking charm, a bookshelf compartment, some extended storage – but only about broom-closet sized – and maybe a privacy charm? Do you want a privacy charm?”

“Yes please,” Su nodded. “If it’s not too expensive,” she amended, looking sheepishly at Nathan.

“Well, I think I’ve got some good travelling trunks that fit the bill,” Mr Clearwater nodded. “One moment, please. I’ll be right back.”

He ducked behind the store counter and disappeared into the back room. Nathan turned to Penelope for small talk in the meantime.

“So you’re a prefect this year? What house?”

“Ravenclaw.”

“My wife was a Ravenclaw,” Nathan nodded. “And Su might be as well.”

“We don’t know yet,” Su murmured. She wasn’t really sure what house she’d end up in. She didn’t think she’d be a Slytherin since she’d been a muggle her whole life until she died, but maybe the sorting hat would think differently? She felt as though she had elements of each house’s core traits, but felt like Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff would be the safest places for her.

“Well, I’ll keep an eye out for you wherever you end up,” Penelope smiled. “A prefect’s job is to look out for all Hogwarts students, not just the ones in her house.”

“Are you excited about it?” Su asked.

“I am,” Penelope nodded. “It’s a really good opportunity. When I start looking for a job after graduation it’s going to look really good that I was a prefect. There’s a lot of responsibility involved, you know.”

“What do you want to do, after school?”

“I think I’d like to study healing,” said Penelope. “There’s a lot of really interesting, complicated charms involved, but it’s important work, you know? My mother’s a healer – she’s really good. She works at the Magical Accidents ward at St. Mungo’s.”

“That’s cool.”

“What about you? Do you know what you might want to do after Hogwarts?”

“I’m not sure yet,” said Su. “But I like potions.”

Nathan hid a smile behind his hand and pretended to be deeply engrossed in a pamphlet about family-sized extended tents. There was a warm bloom of pride and joy in his chest though, at the thought of Su becoming a potions master like himself.

“Aha!” Alistair appeared once more behind the counter, holding a small box in the palm of his hand. “Here’s something. Dragon leather and ebony, very simple shrinking charm – just say ‘small’ or ‘large’.”

At ‘large’, the trunk grew in size and Alistair laid it out on the counter so that Su could look at it. It was very handsome dark leather with brass trimmings, sturdy-looking and smelling of cinnamon and wood-smoke.

“There are four compartments, which you can access by turning this dial here. Turn it sideways for this storage compartment, and also the bookshelf option; so you can use it as a little closet. And, of course, there is a feather-light charm.”

“This is a very handsome trunk, Alistair,” said Nathan, running his hand over the brass. “I’m not sure that it’s within our budget though…”

“Nonsense! I’ll give it to you for twelve galleons.”

“Twelve!” Nathan gaped.

“Twelve!” Penelope repeated. “Grandpa—”

“Look at this little girl,” Alistair gestured to Su, whose hands had tightened around the clasps of the trunk. She peered up at Nathan with all the hope she could muster.

“Don’t make that face, Su,” Nathan groaned. “Please, Mr Clearwater—”

“Alistair.”

“— Alistair. This trunk must be worth at _least_ twenty galleons. If not more! Your generosity is appreciated, but this is your business.”

“Exactly,” Alistair grinned. “This is my business. I’ve been selling trunks to students – old students and new – all summer. Very few of them have searched as hard as Miss Li over here for exactly what they want. I saw the young lady examining each of the charms cards – she knows exactly how each trunk has been enchanted, I imagine. Although that reminds me – young lady, don’t try any of those charms at home until you’re at least sixteen.”

“Sixteen?” Su pouted.

“Sixteen,” Alistair nodded solemnly. Turning back to Nathan he clapped the young man on the shoulder. “I know a curious mind when I see one. She’ll make you proud. And I can afford to be generous to brilliant young minds on rare occasion.”

“Are you sure?” Nathan asked.

“I’m sure,” said Alistair. “But I can charge you full price next time if it makes you feel better.”

“I’ll buy you a butterbeer some time,” Nathan promised, fishing his coin purse out of his pocket. “You’re a very kind man, Alistair Clearwater.”

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Su squealed, running around the counter to hug the store owner. “I promise to take care of it! And I won’t try any charms until I’m older! Thank you so much!”

“You’re very welcome, Miss Li,” Alistair laughed. “I hope to see you around again.”

“I’ll come to visit!” Su promised. “There’s so much to look at in here!”

“Thank you for all your help, Alistair,” said Nathan. “And you as well, Penelope.”

“You’re welcome,” said Penelope. “I’ll see you at school, Su.”

“See you at school!”

They packed Su’s other school things into her trunk and waved goodbye to the Clearwaters, heading back out into the street. They now only had to pick up Su’s school clothes, buy her wand, and purchase her schoolbooks. Most of the books they already had at home or had bought second-hand, but they still needed _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1),_ and Su’s first-year Defence textbooks.

“What do you think, Su? Madam Malkin’s or Ollivander’s first?”

“Ollivander’s is closer,” Su mused, “but I don’t know how long it will take to buy my wand. What if nothing works for me there?”

“Ollivander’s isn’t the only wand-shop in the world. I’m sure we can find you something.” Nathan put a hand on Su’s shoulder, but she had stopped listening.

Wandering into Ollivander’s wand store was a giant of a man with wild black hair, a heavy patchwork coat, and a bright pink umbrella in hand. Rubeus Hagrid. Which meant, of course, that the fuss at the Leaky Cauldron must have been Harry Potter, and that the small boy-shaped silhouette in the window must be… Harry Potter.

Su could almost see it – the two paths set before her. She could go pick up her school robes from Madam Malkin’s and avoid Harry, letting events unfold as they had in the books… but if she followed Harry into the wand store, she could have the wish that she’d had ever since she’d learnt to read.

She could befriend one of her favourite characters.

Su was torn. Could she mess with the plot like that? Would the universe allow it? What would happen to the story if she got herself involved? She already had a plan – stay in the background and survive Hogwarts until Harry inevitably saved the day after seven years. That’s how the story was supposed to go.

But— but she was already here. How much had the story already changed just because she existed? Had it changed at all, yet? Or was it up to here?

“Su?” Nathan had stopped walking. “What do you want to do?”

In another life, she turned away, tugging him to Madam Malkin’s and waiting until there were no half-giants in sight before purchasing her wand. In another life she would watch Harry’s story from a distance, staying in the background, staying out of the way.

But that life was not this life. In this life, she chose to be bold.

* * *

A magic wand… this was what Harry had been really looking forward to.

The sign over the door read _Ollivander’s: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._ in peeling gold letters. The storefront was only a narrow window display with a single wand on a faded purple cushion, and the doorway, veiled in shadow in the deep alcove. Harry watched in fascination as Hagrid – who by all rights should not have fit into the alcove, let alone through the little shabby door – bent his head and followed him into the shop without breaking anything.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere deep into the shop, though the waiting area seemed almost smaller than the doorway. Harry found himself squished between a tall wooden counter and Hagrid, who had sat himself on the single, spindly chair by the window.

Behind the counter, Harry could see rows and rows of narrow boxes piled right up to the ceiling. The shop was so dim that he could not see where the shop ended – if it ended at all. The hair on the back of his neck prickled.

He felt as though he had entered a very strict library or some kind of sacred space. He didn’t want to speak and he could barely breathe. The very dust and silence here seemed to hold the weight of some secret, ancient magic.

“Good afternoon,” said a soft voice.

Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped too because there was a loud crunching noise and he quickly got off the spindly chair.

An old man was standing behind the counter, pale as a ghost, his wide eyes shining like moons in the gloom of the shop.

“Hello,” said Harry, awkward.

“Ah, yes,” said the man. “Yes, yes. I thought I’d bee seeing you soon, Harry Potter.” He moved closer, peering at Harry with those frightening eyes. “You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow – nice wand for charm work. She was always very charming.”

Ollivander stepped out from behind the counter, gliding more than walking. Harry was worried that the shopkeeper might actually _be_ a ghost. He was certainly pale enough, and he wasn’t blinking.

“Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well. I say your father favoured it – it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course.”

The old man had stooped down to Harry’s level, so close that they were almost nose-to-nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.

“And that’s where…” Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry’s forehead with a long, white finger. “I’m sorry to say that I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… well, if I’d known what that wand was going out into the world to do…”

The bell rang again, and both Harry and Ollivander turned to see who had come in. The space, though still tiny, seemed to have stretched to accommodate the new customers – a young Asian girl and her dad.

The new arrivals seemed to snap Ollivander out of his creepy stance. He shook himself and smiled, suddenly a friendlier and more human-looking man than he had been ten seconds ago.

“Nathan! How are you, my lad? I remember your wand – Hazel! Ten inches! A very handy wand. How has it served you?”

“I’m afraid it was broken, Mr Ollivander,” the man replied. “An accident in Peru. I’ve got a new one, of course. A nice Spanish lad set me up with it. Want to see it? Hello, Hagrid! How’ve you been?”

The three men got to talking, discussing Nathan’s adventures in Peru. The girl came over to Harry, a curiously concerned expression on her face.

“Are you all right?” she asked. Harry blinked. All right about what? “Mr Ollivander looked like he was bothering you, a bit.”

“Oh,” said Harry, a bit dumbly. “Yeah. A bit. I’m okay, though.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, smiling with more confidence than he actually felt. “I’m fine.”

“I’m Su,” she said, holding out her hand. “Su Li.”

“Harry,” he said, leaving off his last name. He still wasn’t used to being famous. He didn’t want her to get weird because of his name. Even so, she seemed to be looking at him very seriously, taking him in.

Su was studying Harry Potter – he didn’t look at all like he did in the movies. He was very small, barely taller than she was, with a mess of black curls on his head. His bright green eyes stood out against his dark brown skin, as did his scar, which looked more like a lightning strike at night, branching over the left half of his forehead, than the neat little scratch in the movies.

It was the smallness of him that really got to her, how he was hunched in on himself and how he looked at her warily, like she might bite. She wanted to make this sad, scrawny boy smile. She wanted to be his friend.

“Are you starting at Hogwarts this year, too?” he asked her.

“That’s right,” she said.

“Um…” Harry couldn’t think of anything to say. He glanced out the window and spotted a red and gold striped scarf. “Do you know what house you’ll be in? I don’t really know how the houses work, but everyone seems to think that they’re really important.”

“Important to some people, I guess,” Su nodded, glancing at Nathan and remembering his speech to her when they’d first met.

“Why?” Harry asked.

“Well, students are sorted into their houses based on their personality – more or less. So each house has developed a– a reputation of sorts. Slytherins are cunning and ambitious. My Uncle was in Slytherin, and now he’s a really successful potions master. And a great cook. My Aunt Beatrice was in Ravenclaw, which is for the wise and the learned. It’s like the house for people who want to learn things.”

“The smart house?”

“Not exactly,” Su shook her head, thinking of how scatter-brained Bea could be when she was distracted. “Just, people who are always seeking new things, I guess. Gryffindor is for the brave and bold. Hufflepuffs are hardworking and friendly and organised. All the houses have their good traits. And bad.”

“Bad?”

Su bit her lip and tugged her ear. It was hard to explain. And the books made it seem as though Slytherins were the bad guys and Gryffindors were the good guys. But now that she was living here, she knew the world wasn’t just a story, there were real people here. And real people aren’t just one thing, they’re complicated.

“People think that Slytherins are evil,” she admitted, frowning. “And it’s true that some of them have some pretty strong preju– prejudices? I think that’s the word. Some of them think they’re better than other wizards because they’re purebloods. But they’re not the only ones. There are purebloods in all four houses. And all of them have some pretty weird ideas about muggles.”

“Non-magical people.”

“Exactly,” Su sighed. “Gryffindors can get pretty aggressive too, especially if they think that someone deserves to be punished. Ravenclaws… I’m not sure. I think they can get a bit haughty? Because they’re supposed to be the ‘smart’ house, they can be competitive about grades? I don’t know. And some people think Hufflepuffs are just the leftovers, but that’s not true. Hufflepuffs are really loyal and united.”

“You seem to know a lot about it all.”

“Only a little bit,” Su said, frowning. She’d never noticed until she started talking about it, but there wasn’t a lot of information about Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff in the books she’d read. But she’d only read most of the first five books, so maybe she missed something in books six and seven?

“You kids ready to buy your wands?” Su and Harry startled when Nathan came up behind them, grinning brightly. He had a wand-polishing kit in his hand and Ollivander was already pulling a tape measure out of his pocket.

“Uncle Nate, this is Harry,” Su introduced her new friend. “Harry, this is my Uncle Nathan. He was a Slytherin in Hogwarts if you want to ask about it.”

“Hi, Mr– er– Mr Nathan,” said Harry.

“Nathan is fine. Or Mr Li, if it bothers you,” Nathan smiled, shaking Harry’s hand.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Li,” said Harry.

“Wand arm, Mr Potter,” Ollivander interrupted, bustling between Harry and his new friend. Harry glanced at Su, who mimed writing. He held up his right hand. 

Ollivander measured Harry from his shoulder to the tips of his fingers, then wrist to elbow, and so on. As he measured, he explained to Harry – and by extension, Su – how each wand had a core, generally unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers, or dragon heartstrings.

“Of course there are exceptions,” he said. “Such as young Nathan’s over there, whose core is a manticore spine. Very powerful, but not necessarily stable.”

“He’s just pouting because I bought from a different wand-maker,” Nathan whispered to the two kids. Su bit her lip to stifle a giggle and Harry ducked his head to hide his smile.

Ollivander pottered off to look at wands in the shop while his tape measure continued to zip around Harry, measuring between his eyes, around his head, and eventually tangling itself around his outstretched wrist.

“Here we are!” Ollivander thrust a wand under Harry’s nose. “Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave.”

Harry took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost immediately, disappearing into the stacks and coming back with a new box in seconds.

“Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try it.”

Harry tried it. This wand, too, was snatched away.

“I wonder how he knows,” Su murmured. “Whether it’s a good match or not.”

“He’s been doing this his whole life,” Nathan shrugged. When Su and Harry turned around, they realised that Hagrid had disappeared somewhere without saying anything. To buy Harry an owl, Su remembered.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” Ollivander promised Su as he shuffled past her. “Miss…”

“Li, sir. Su Li.”

“Li, is it?” Ollivander glanced at Nathan, something inscrutable in his owlish eyes. The pile of rejected wands grew higher and higher on Ollivander’s desk as he pressed wand after wand into Harry’s hands, only to snatch them right back.

“Do you know what your favourite subject will be?” Su asked as Harry picked up another wand only for Ollivander to take it right back.

“I’m not sure,” Harry admitted. “I only learned I was magic yesterday.”

“Oh, right,” Su nodded. She’d forgotten that part. “Well, I haven’t been magic very long either. We can help each other.”

“Yeah?” Harry perked up. He could have a friend! A real friend!

“Definitely,” Su nodded. “Especially potions. Uncle Nathan’s been teaching me—”

“Only the basics,” Nathan shrugged.

“—and our potions teacher is going to be really harsh,” Su scowled. “So we can study together, and I can help you!”

“What’re potions?” Harry asked.

“It’s like– like cooking. They’re brewed in cauldrons for all kinds of things, like medicine, or growth potions, or poisons, or antidotes. It’s really fascinating. In some ways, a potion is better than a spell, but sometimes spells are better than potions. Like, potions take time to brew, but then anyone can use it once brewed, while spells are limited by the power and skill of the caster, but it’s faster. And sometimes you can cast spells on potions to change or improve the effects!”

Harry laughed at her enthusiasm.

“You’re really excited about potions.”

“Well, I have a good teacher,” Su beamed at Nathan. Harry ignored the brief pang of envy he felt at the love and admiration he saw between Su and her Uncle. He’d been jealous of happy families his whole life. He was used to it now.

“I guess I know what I’ll be studying over summer,” he said, taking a wand from Ollivander absent-mindedly, barely noticing when it was snatched from his hand again. “Then we’ll have something to talk about when school starts.”

Harry felt a warm happiness bloom in his chest when Su turned the bright smile from her uncle onto him, hope sparkling in her eyes.

“That would be amazing,” she said.

“Tricky customer, eh?” Ollivander was muttering to himself. “Not to worry, we’ll find the perfect match here somewhere. I wonder… yes, why not? Unusual combination, holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple.”

He held the wand out to Harry with two hands, like an offering. The air in the store changed as Harry reached for the wand, feeling a warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head and brought it swishing down through the dusty air. A stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light onto the walls.

Su cheered and Nathan applauded the display.

“Oh, bravo!” Ollivander exclaimed. “Very good, very good… but curious. Very curious.” He put Harry’s wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering to himself under his breath.

“Sorry,” Harry interrupted. “But what’s curious?”

Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare, not paying any mind to their audience.

“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Mr Potter,” he said. “Every single wand. It just so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand gave another feather – just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when it’s brother… why it’s brother gave you that scar.”

Harry swallowed.

“Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember… I think we must expect great things from you, Mr Potter. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes! But great. He was a wizard who changed many lives…”

 _And ended them_ , Harry thought, touching his scar thoughtfully. He was grateful when Su’s Uncle interrupted Ollivander’s creepily intense trance.

“I’m sorry to rush you along, Mr Ollivander,” he said. “But Su is still in need of a wand, and we do still have to get her schoolbooks, you understand.”

Ollivander snapped out of it, suddenly genial and harmless again.

“Yes, yes of course,” he said.

Su held out both hands for measuring.

“I’m ambidextrous,” she said.

“Which hand do you write with?” Ollivander asked. She held out her right hand.

Ollivander studied her intensely, much quieter around her than with Harry. She understood a little – she didn’t really have family whose wands Ollivander could remember selling. However, it seemed as though he had an equal amount of trouble finding her a wand as with Harry.

“It didn’t take this long with me,” Nathan murmured.

 _I don’t really belong here_ , Su thought. _Maybe I’m not supposed to have a wand at all. Maybe the wands know that I’m not a real witch_.

Ollivander picked up and dismissed a number of wands without even handing them to Su. The pile of discarded wands on the counter was almost to the ceiling now. Ollivander frowned and bustled over to the window, picking up the wand on display.

“I don’t know if we can afford that, Mr Ollivander,” Nathan frowned.

“Just a test, just a test, Mr Li,” Ollivander shushed him. He pressed the wand into Su’s hand. She didn’t feel any rush of recognition the way she’d seen on Harry’s face before. The wood just felt cold and kind of brittle in her hand, but something about the way she held it made something spark in Ollivander’s eyes.

“I see, I see,” he muttered, disappearing into the darkness of the shop, rustling about. In the gloom Su could see a shadow magically moving entire piles of boxed wands out of the way, digging down, down, down, finally picking up a small box from the floor. Slowly Ollivander made his way back into the light.

“Try this,” he said.

Su took the wand, which was quite small, compared to most of the others she’d tried, with a fairly plain handle. Holding the wand, she felt something similar to her time in the darkness beyond the Veil – similar to being enveloped in that silvery mist that had been her only source of light. Something like hope and possibility, sinking under her skin.

She waved the wand and it produced a glowing silver cat, twice as big as Su herself, which circled her twice before fading into a mist.

“Whoa,” Harry breathed, eyes wide. Su was speechless.

“Yew. Six-and-a-half inches. Quite rigid,” Ollivander told her, carefully taking the wand back and wrapping it up. “It has a core of thestral tail-hair. A rare component I will admit. My father’s father made four wands using that particular thestral’s tail. He sold two of them. Those wands belonged to some exceptionally… _capable_ people. Be careful, Miss Li. That is a powerful wand. Unforgiving and precise.”

Su frowned as she took the box from Ollivander, who was looking at her more intently than he had the entire time she and Harry had been in the store.

“Thestrals are deeply misunderstood creatures. Outcast, one might call them. Other. They don’t _quite_ belong in this world. They are very closely tied to… to death,” he looked between Harry and Su, his pale eyes giving them both chills. “I do not know if these wands choosing you are omens of times to come, of upheaval or war or uncertainty, or if they are merely signs that the two of you have the potential for greatness and the power of change. Either way, I caution you. The wand chooses the wizard, yes. But the wizard chooses the way in which he uses the wand.”

The silence stretched out in the shop, heavier even than when Harry had first entered it. All the occupants of the room seemed frozen, unable to speak or breathe or move, trapped in a staring contest of deep discomfort.

The atmosphere was only broken when the bell rang again and Hagrid bustled into the shop. The open door let in the sounds of the street – people chattering and cheerfully bargaining and living and generally existing – breaking the strange, detached bubble in which Ollivander’s had been suspended.

“Got yer wand, Harry?” Hagrid asked, ruddy-faced. Numbly, Harry held up the box Ollivander had given him. “Good! Great! ‘Ow much do I owe ya, Mr Ollivander, sir?”

“Seven galleons,” Ollivander whispered, waving his wand so that all the boxes piled up on the counter began whizzing back into the shop, sorting themselves out.

“Here you go,” Hagrid shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out a handful of heavy gold coins and dropping them on the counter. “Harry! Yeh’ve made a friend!”

“This is Su,” Harry offered. “Su, Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts.”

“Nice to meet you,” Su waved at Hagrid, who beamed and waved back.

“I got yeh a present, Harry,” said Hagrid, pulling the cage out from behind him. Inside was a beautiful snow-white owl. It was the best birthday present he’d ever gotten in his entire life. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

“She’s amazing,” said Harry, tears in his eyes. “I love her.”

“Eight galleons for you, Mr Li,” said Ollivander. 

Nathan paid Ollivander without speaking, a troubled expression on his face. Su didn’t blame him. She felt quite troubled herself, especially when Ollivander mentioned thestrals and their connection to death.

She could feel a panic attack coming on, her throat closing up and her vision narrowing until all she could see was the box in her hands. She didn’t want to have an attack here, in front of her new friend. She didn’t want to scare him away. But she was suddenly overwhelmed with a great sense of dread and disconnection, as though she was trapped in a bubble separate from the world and rapidly running out of air.

She gripped the box with both hands, desperately trying to take deep breaths, tears in her eyes.

Nathan quickly noticed her distress and knelt in front of her, angling her head so that she was looking him in the eye and breathing deeply with her. She couldn’t push down the rising anxiety inside her, but having Nathan there helped her breathe, at least.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stone, then gestured a circle over his palm with one finger.

With all her concentration, Su focused on using wandless magic to make the stone fly in a small circle over Nathan’s palm, ignoring everything else except for that action. She didn’t know how long it took her to calm down, but after a minute or two she was able to breathe much easier, letting the stone drop into Nathan’s outstretched palm.

“You good?” Nathan asked, one hand on her shoulder.

Su nodded and hugged him. When she turned around it seemed as though neither Harry nor Hagrid had noticed the episode at all, and Ollivander had disappeared.

“I cast a mild misdirection charm,” Nathan told her, quiet. “They wouldn’t have noticed anything unless they were looking for it, or something big had happened. I know you don’t like drawing attention to it.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” Su whispered, trying not to cry.

She hated the attacks, but she couldn’t always stop them. She could only survive them and keep moving forward. She realised suddenly that it might be a lot harder when she was at Hogwarts, because she wouldn’t be able to just go into a different room away from other people to deal with the attacks.

There were a lot more people at Hogwarts than in the Li’s cottage.

“We should go home,” said Nathan.

“What about my books? And my robes?”

“We can get them another day.”

“But—”

“We’ve had a big day, Su. You need some rest.”

Su clenched her fist around the rock in her hand and sighed.

“All right,” she said.

“Are you going?” Harry asked.

“We’ve got to get home for dinner,” Su nodded. “But you can write to me over the summer, now that you’ve got an owl.” She put her fingers through the bars of Hedwig’s cage – though Harry hadn’t named her yet – and let the owl nip her fingers lightly before stroking her feathers. What a beautiful bird.

“You want me to write?”

“We’re going to be friends, aren’t we?” Su grinned, more bright than she felt. “I’ll see you at school Harry. Goodbye!”

“Goodbye,” said Harry, watching Su and Nathan step out of the store. He was still a little bit dazed by everything that had just happened in the last few hours, overwhelmed by his unexpected fame and then everything that had happened with Ollivander and Su…

He frowned at his wand, perplexed, one hand moving up to touch his scar. He’d always thought the scar was kind of cool, but now he wasn’t so sure.

He was quiet on the way back into muggle London, barely noticing the odd stares that he and Hagrid received with all their odd packages and Hagrid’s bulky frame. He didn’t even taste what he was eating when Hagrid bought him a hamburger and they sat on the plastic seats outside McDonald's.

“You all right, Harry?” Hagrid asked. “Yer very quiet.”

Harry wasn’t sure he could explain what he was feeling. He’d just had the best birthday of his life, and yet…

“Everyone thinks I’m special,” he said at last. “All those people at the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr Ollivander… but I don’t know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I’m famous and I can’t even remember what I’m famous for. I don’t know what happened when Vol– sorry– I mean, the night my parents died. What if nobody likes me because I’m not the hero they think I am?”

Hagrid smiled. “Don’t you worry, Harry. You’ll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts – you’ll be just fine. There are lots of students who don’t know anything when they start. Your mother was raised by muggles and she was one of the best students Hogwarts ever had!”

“Really?”

“Really. And don’t worry, yeh’ll make plenty o’ friends o’ course – like that girl! What was her name?”

“Su,” Harry smiled. She’d asked him to write! His first magical friend.

“See, Harry. Jus’ stick by yer friends and be yerself. I know it’s hard. Yeh’ve been singled out, an’ that’s always hard. But yeh’ll have a great time at Hogwarts. I did. Still do, matter o’ fact.”

“Thanks, Hagrid.”

Hagrid helped Harry onto the train that would take him back to the Dursleys, then handed him an envelope with the Hogwarts crest on it.

“Yer ticket fer Hogwarts,” he said. “First o’ September, King’s Cross Station. It’s all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a letter with yer owl. She’ll know where to find me. See you soon, Harry.”

The train pulled out of the station and Harry waved goodbye to Hagrid until he couldn’t see the giant anymore. He sat in his seat, clutching his ticket into a new world and a trunk full of magical school things, thinking of all the new things he’d learned and the friends he’d made.

Life was looking up.

* * *

Su was haunted by nightmares that night.

She had visions of the Veil, looming at the end of a long, dark corridor. There was a cold wind at her back, pushing her towards the curtain, but there was a stone in her gut that told her approaching the Veil would be bad. There was something waiting for her, just past the curtain, something lurking in the mist that was going to hurt her.

She could hear a voice, faint and indistinct, calling to her, but she couldn’t make out what it was saying, and she didn’t want to go nearer to the Veil just to make the voice clearer.

The cold wind pressed on her back and she took one step forward.

Su woke in a sweat, smothered by the summer heat in her small room. To calm her racing heart she picked up her stone and practiced changing the colour of the rock – red, green, gold, and blue. She didn’t really need a specific spell for magic this small, only the will to make it happen.

 _I’ll practice more complicated spells at school_ , she told herself. Though she’d already read ahead in her textbooks and had attempted to wandlessly transfigure a matchstick into a needle. It had changed colour, but not shape. And then it exploded.

Nathan had been quite annoyed. He made her promise not to practice wandless magic unsupervised anymore, except for levitating small objects, which she had already mastered.

Sheepishly Su had agreed.

“Sorry, Uncle Nate.”

“It’s okay, Su. The kitchen is easily repaired. I’m just worried that you might hurt yourself, or someone else.”

Su sighed at the memory and got out of bed, padding to the kitchen and turning on the stove to make congee for breakfast. She also took out her cauldron and Nate’s first-year potions textbook to practice making a strengthening solution.

She was due to go into the Department of Mysteries today for her second-to-last check-up with Pearl and Yao before school. But the nightmare about the Veil had thrown her off-balance and she was afraid to go near it in person.

Beatrice found her working on her potion half-an-hour later, just as Su was counting her clockwise stirs.

“You’re up early,” said Beatrice. “Excited about school?”

Su hesitated then shook her head.

“Nightmare.”

“About your parents?”

“About the Veil.”

Beatrice immediately sat down, across from Su’s makeshift potions lab.

“What happened?”

“I was in this long corridor, like the ones at the Ministry. You know, the dark ones that all look the same? The ones that go on forever?”

Beatrice nodded.

“And all the lights had gone out behind me and it was really cold. And I could see the Veil, at the end of the corridor. It was calling to me. There was a voice. But I couldn’t hear what it was saying.”

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything. I knew there was something waiting for me beyond the Veil. And I felt like something really bad would happen if I got close.”

They were both quiet for a moment and then Su said:

“I don’t want to go in today.”

“Su—”

“Please, Auntie? I can’t– Something will happen if I go. I don’t want to– I don’t want to die again. I think it wants me back.”

“The Veil wants you back?”

“I don’t know,” Su sobbed, angrily rubbing the tears from her eyes. “I just– I feel like something bad will happen if I go in today.”

Beatrice sighed and checked her watch. She and Su weren’t due at the Ministry for a couple of hours, but the Department had been busier than usual lately, especially with Harry Potter’s appearance at Diagon Alley the day before, confirming his enrolment at Hogwarts this year.

“I’ll see if I can get the boys to make a house call,” she said. Yao wouldn’t be a problem – he adored Su and relished any chance he got to see sunlight outside of the DoM’s sunroom. It might be difficult to get Pearl to agree since he was notoriously reclusive, but he did like Su quite a bit.

Su sniffled and scrubbed the remainder of the tears from her eyes.

“Thanks, Auntie.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie.” Beatrice leaned forward to kiss Su’s forehead. “I’ll go to work now, but I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” Su nodded.

Nathan came out to the kitchen a few minutes after Beatrice left, complimenting Su on her strengthening solution.

“It’s the right colour and consistency,” he said. “Did you crush the beetles, or slice them?”

“Both,” said Su. “I crushed them on the board and then sliced them and tipped everything into the cauldron.”

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, kissing her head. “And you made breakfast!”

“I woke up early,” she shrugged.

Nathan looked at her sideways and then sat down beside her.

“I’m guessing you already talked to Bea about it?”

Su nodded.

“All right, then I won’t pressure you. But you know you can count on us for anything, don’t you?”

“I know,” said Su, sighing. She leaned her head against Nate’s shoulder, letting him hug her. “I miss my mum and dad. I think they’d be really excited for me to go to Hogwarts. And my brothers, too.” She laughed softly. “Ken would be so jealous of me. He was a year younger than me. Mum was reading the books to both of us.”

“Books?”

“Er, about magic. Muggles write stories about magic – imagining what it might be like and what we’d use it for. That sort of thing.”

“I didn’t know you had brothers,” said Nathan, quiet. “You don’t talk about your family much, Su. It’s okay to miss them. You loved them very much.”

“I know. I did love them. I still do. I just– Jo was only a baby. He was only two. And now maybe he’s three or four? And I’m not there. What if he’s scarred for life because I died? What about Mum and Dad?”

“I’m sure they missed you a lot, Su,” Nathan hugged her closer. “I’m really sorry. I know how hard things are for you.”

Su hugged him back and burst into tears. It’d been a while since her last episode, but Nathan and Beatrice always told her that grief was a process. She knew she would never stop missing her family, and that the pain would never completely go away, but she hoped it would get easier.

Nathan rubbed her back soothingly and let her cry until she was out of tears. He disappeared into the bathroom and came back with a warm, damp towel so that she could wash her face.

“Sorry,” she muttered, wiping her face.

“Never be sorry, Su,” said Nathan. “Not for missing your family. It’s not something you should ever be sorry for. It means that you have a deeply loving heart.”

Su laughed.

“That’s so cheesy,” she said, grinning even though smiling still hurt her face.

“I’m a cheesy guy,” said Nathan. “Come on, kid. Let’s get to work.”

Su helped Nathan prep ingredients for his potions until lunchtime, when Pearl and Yao stepped out of the Floo in their Unspeakable robes.

“Freddie! Pearl! Fancy seeing you out of the office! Su and I were just making some pasta for lunch. Come join us!”

“We’re actually here on business,” said Pearl, serious as always. “Su’s check-up.”

“That was today?” Nathan frowned. “Oh! Yes! That was today! Su, why didn’t you remind me? We should have been at the Ministry an hour ago.”

“Don’t worry about it, mate,” Yao laughed, clapping Nathan on the back. “Pearl and I decided to drop in for a house visit – see if the environment changes any of our readings.” He winked at Su, who rolled her eyes at him. She was feeling much better now than she had that morning.

“Oh, do you want the living room? Su’s been helping me in the lab a bit—”

“Still practicing potions?” Pearl asked. Su nodded. “Good. It’s a noble interest, and a good hobby for you.”

“What does that mean?”

“You know you shouldn’t be doing anything strenuous,” said Pearl. “Potions is a traditionally stationary interest. Very little moving about. I trust you haven’t caused any explosions with a lack of caution?”

“No.”

“Then it is a sound interest for you.”

Su rolled her eyes.

“I could do other things if I wanted to,” she said.

“I would advise against it.”

“Pearl! That’s guaranteed to get her to do something reckless!” Yao exclaimed, laughing. “Don’t you know kids these days will always do the opposite of what you ask?”

“Not always,” Su muttered, petulant.

“Almost always,” said Yao, ruffling her hair. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s see what’s going on with you. You’re a growing girl, and your body is changing now—”

“Gross!” Su ducked away from him, but she was laughing. Yao was a clown, impulsive and chatty. That didn’t always work in his favour, but right now it was helping Su relax and calm down.

Nathan smiled at his adopted daughter and his friends and quietly went back to his lab to continue working. Su was in safe hands.

The check-up was pretty standard for Su, despite the change in locale. Her body was still much weaker than most witches her age, but she wasn’t in any immediate danger. Pearl did remind her not to do anything reckless, especially in flying class at school. Yao checked her magical core and noticed that it had grown in power in the last month.

“But that’s pretty standard,” he said. “Especially since you’ve got your wand now. Your magic is going to respond to your mind, which now has greater control over it through the wand. It’s normal for kids your age to go through growth spurts – both in height and magic.”

“Way to rub it in,” Su scowled at him. She could be sensitive about her shortness.

Yao just laughed.

“You’re doing great, kiddo,” he said. “And don’t worry about school – you’re going to do great. Just… try not to blow up any matchsticks.”

“I told Aunt Bea not to tell anyone!” Su pouted.

“Well, _I_ won’t tell anyone,” Yao promised, still snickering.

Su rolled her eyes and pushed him into the Floo.

“Remember, your bones are very fragile,” Pearl said for the thousandth time as he stepped into the fireplace when Yao had gone. “Be careful at Hogwarts. There are a lot of staircases with trick stairs and vanishing steps to fall down.”

“I’ll be fine,” Su promised. “I’ll be careful.”

“Good.” Pearl nodded shortly and then stepped into the Floo.

Su waved goodbye to Pearl, still thinking about what he’d just said about trick stairs at Hogwarts. The school was full of secret passageways, hidden entrances, and transforming rooms. Everyone knew that, but as far as she knew, only one map had ever been made for the school.

She immediately turned around to search the Li’s bookshelf for anything related to magical map-making. She couldn’t practice magic – yet – but she _could_ study ahead.

* * *

Beatrice took the day off work on September 1st in order to see Su to the Hogwarts Express. They had breakfast together early in the morning, checked Su’s trunk to make sure that she’d packed everything, and then Flooed to King’s Cross Station.

She’d been writing to Harry all August, exchanging notes on things they were excited to learn about at school. She’d made sure to tell him how to get onto the platform, just in case he didn’t hear the Weasleys talking about it.

She’d also written to Cho and Penelope, asking the older girls about their experiences at Hogwarts and wondering what she might have to look forward to. As Ravenclaws, both girls had told Su about the opportunities she had to learn at Hogwarts, though not always about classes.

Cho was enthusiastic about Quidditch and broom-making and had written a long list of tips for Su’s first year of flying lessons, as well as talking about the runes and enchantments involved in the making of brooms.

Penelope was deeply interested in healing and mentioned that Madam Pomfrey was happy to have older students observe and occasionally help her out in the Hospital Wing.

Both girls wrote about the professors Su would be meeting and told her which were the most helpful – Professors Flitwick and Sprout – and who would be the most difficult – Snape and probably the Defence Professor, whoever it was this year. Penelope briefly mentioned third-year electives, but assured Su that she would have plenty of time to think about that and didn’t have to decide now.

When they arrived at the station it had taken them a few moments to get their bearings. They’d arrived an hour before the train was due to leave, but the platform was already crowded with hundreds of students, parents, and assorted family members shouting and wandering about and chattering loudly.

The loudness and large number of people at the station overwhelmed Su, who mostly stayed in the house or went to the Department of Mysteries. There were so many bright colours and voices to sort out and she instinctively clung closely to Nathan.

Beatrice, the tallest of the three, was the first to spot the Chang’s, and helped Nathan and Su push through the crowd so that they could gather together as a family. Cho was dressed up nicely for the train ride in a navy silk tunic with a cheongsam-style collar and gold embroidery and some loose black cotton trousers. Su was dressed similarly, though her tunic was simple cream coloured cotton with a looser collar.

She found that wizarding fashion fell somewhere in the realm of medieval European and traditional Middle-Eastern styles, wherein most people favoured long tunics over trousers with varying levels of decoration – from plain, solid colours to heavily embroidered or bejewelled – with robes or cloaks as outerwear.

As isolated as she was, Su was still getting used to wizarding culture and was not at all sure how to tell what was in fashion and what was not. She found it fascinating all the same, how generally wizarding clothes and hairstyles tended to be much looser and more flowing than the fitted, structured styles of muggle clothing.

“You look pretty, Cho,” she said, as all this raced through her head.

“Thank you,” Cho blushed, looking over her shoulder. Su wondered if she was searching for Cedric Diggory. Maybe not. They wouldn’t start dating until Cho’s fifth year. Maybe Cho had a crush on someone else?

Su felt a strange sense of dizziness at the thought that she and Cho and all these other students had an existence outside of Harry Potter and his stories. There were whole lifetimes that went unseen because JK Rowling didn’t write about them.

“How are things at work, Ellie?” Nathan asked. His sister rolled her eyes.

“Same as usual,” she said. “Malfoy’s got Fudge’s ear, which means it’s near impossible to get anything useful done. But you know how many purebloods listen to them. It’s hard to get anything done without compromising in their favour.”

“Nothing bad, I hope.”

“Not this week, at least.”

“Grown-ups,” Cho shook her head, linking arms with Su. “Come meet some of my friends, Su. I’m sure they’d all love to meet you.”

Cho introduced Su to her friends – Marietta, a Ravenclaw, Jasmine Perkins, also Ravenclaw, Kinsley Mendoza, a Hufflepuff, and Molly Stevens, a Gryffindor.

“It’s Su’s first year,” Cho said. “Kin, Molls, if she ends up in one of your houses would you look out for her? Just for the first few days?”

“Of course!” Molly nodded. “Any friend of Cho’s is a friend of ours.”

“Which means that we’re friends with half the school, obviously,” Kinsley laughed.

“What if I’m a Slytherin?” Su asked.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Kinsley smiled, while Molly shuddered behind her. “If you’re sorted into Slytherin I know that Ava Watson is Head Girl this year. She’ll look after you if you need anything.”

“Ava Watson, really?” Marietta asked.

“You don’t think she deserves it?” Kinsley frowned.

“No, I do,” Marietta shook her head. “Watson’s a class act. I just didn’t think– well– you know how Dumbledore is with Slytherins.”

“They’ve won the House Cup seven years in a row!” Molly protested.

“And that’s _all_ Snape,” Jasmine pointed out. “He hands out points like candy.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t see how Dumbledore avoids the Slytherins. They’re pretty much left to their own devices,” said Marietta.

“Yeah, they can make whatever trouble they want,” Molly scowled.

“But they also don’t get recognition they deserve,” Marietta insisted. “My brother said that Warrington saved his life last year with that thing with the Astronomy tower, but they both lost fifty house points for it even though Warrington didn’t do anything wrong! He said Dumbledore just ‘looked mysterious’ but didn’t do anything even when he tried to tell them that Warrington deserved a reward.”

“That’s just one Slytherin,” said Molly.

“And if Su becomes a Slytherin, then that’s two,” said Cho, which effectively ended that topic of conversation.

“Do you want to sit on the train with us?” Cho asked, turning to Su.

“No thanks,” Su hugged her. “I’m going to see if I can find my friends. I think I should sit with other first-years for my first trip.”

“Well, find me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will.”

Su waded into the crowd, searching for any sign of Harry, but couldn’t find him anywhere. She hoped he hadn’t gotten lost on the way to the station. She couldn’t remember if Hagrid was supposed to bring him to King’s Cross or if the Dursleys would, but honestly she didn’t think either would be completely sound guides.

She was just contemplating walking back through the divider to check the muggle side of the platform when a handsome, dark-skinned boy and his even handsomer, dark-skinned mother strode through the barrier, almost knocking her over. She jumped to the side to avoid them, yelping when she knocked into the wall.

“— and don’t listen to any of the rumours about me,” the woman was saying, striding imperiously through the crowd. “I know there will be many. Some of them may even contain a kernel of truth. But jealously is a breeding ground for hateful lies.”

The boy had stopped walking though, taking Su by the elbow and checking her head where she’d hit the wall.

“Are you all right?” he asked, his expression serious.

“Just bruised, I think,” Su rubbed her head.

“My apologies,” he said. “I’m Blaise Zabini.”

“Su Li.” She shook his hand.

“You’re a first year?”

Su nodded.

“So am I,” he smiled at her. “You can sit with me on the train if you like.”

“I’m looking for my friend.”

“Maybe she’s on the train already?”

“Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe.”

“Well, let’s go look.” Blaise followed the path his mother had left in her wake, leading Su towards the Hogwarts Express. His mother raised an eyebrow at the new tagalong he had picked up along the way.

“And who is this?” she asked. Su swallowed nervously. This was the tallest and most beautiful woman she’d ever met in her entire life.

“Su,” said Blaise. “She’s a first year, too.”

“I see,” she arched one perfect eyebrow and extended a hand to Su. “I am Isabella Zabini.”

Su shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am,” Su squeaked. The scariest, tallest, most beautiful woman she’d ever met in her entire life. “I’m, um, Su. Su Li.”

“Any relation to Nathan Li, the potions master?” Isabella asked.

“He’s my Uncle.”

“He’s a very talented man.”

Isabella perked up, spotting someone she recognised in the crowd.

“Lucius Malfoy! How good to see you!”

“Isabella, it’s been some time.” Malfoy Senior strode through the crowd towards them, his black silk robes billowing in some magical wind around him. His long, pale hair was plaited and tied with an emerald green ribbon. A smaller, similarly dressed boy followed behind, though his hair was tied with a plain black ribbon.

“Blaise, you remember Lucius,” Isabella nudged her son forward. “Still married?”

“Happily,” Lucius smirked. “Narcissa is just catching up with a few old school friends. You’re welcome to join us for lunch later. May I introduce my son, Draco?”

“You’re the spitting image of your father,” Isabella smiled, shark-like.

Su shrank back, unsure, but Draco spotted her before she could disappear into the crowd. He sneered at her, accentuating the pinched and pointed qualities of his features.

“Who are _you_?” he asked, accusatory.

“Now, now, Draco,” Lucius tutted. “I’m sure any friend of the Zabinis is a person of quality and interest. We’ve not been introduced, young lady. I am Lucius Malfoy.”

He offered her a shallow bow, and Su offered a bow in return, automatically mimicking him. As she straightened, she noticed the amused expressions on both Lucius’ and Isabella’s faces. Blaise, beside her, coughed lightly, a small smile curling the corner of his mouth.

“Su Li,” she said.

“Nathan Li’s niece,” Isabella added. Lucius’ eyebrows went up.

“A gifted potions master,” he said. “I imagine you have inherited some of his talents. Draco, you might have some competition in potions after all.”

Draco scowled.

“There you are!”

“Speak of the devil,” said Lucius.

Nathan appeared at Su’s shoulder, followed closely by Beatrice. They both looked a little winded after having pushed through the throngs of people on the platform.

“I see you’ve made some new friends,” said Beatrice, sizing up the Zabinis and Malfoys. “Lucius, Isabella. It’s been some time.”

“Beatrice,” said Lucius, bowing.

“Beatrice,” said Isabella, eyes sparkling.

“We’ve just come to see Su off,” said Nathan, breaking the strangely uncomfortable atmosphere. Su wasn’t sure if it was ministry politics or something more personal that was creating tension between her aunt and the other parents. Either way, she was glad when Nathan pulled her to the side so that he and Beatrice could have a private moment with her.

“We lost you,” he said.

“I was with Cho.”

“We wanted to say goodbye,” said Beatrice, looking hurt.

Su bit her lip and pulled them both in for a hug.

“Sorry,” she said. “I was just really excited.”

“We know,” said Beatrice. “We just wanted to tell you that you’ll be brilliant, whatever house you get sorted into. We’ll write to you every week.”

“Every week?” Su repeated, dubious. She knew how focused Beatrice could be on her work.

“At least once a month,” Beatrice amended, grinning.

“I wanted to give you this,” said Nathan, pulling a small gold marble out of his pocket. Su took it and realised that it was a miniature snitch, about half the size of a golf ball. She squeezed it and the wings unfolded, flapping a little without flying.

“It’s just a knick-knack,” Beatrice explained. “It doesn’t fly on its own. I thought it would be good for when you– when you need to– you know. It’s less conspicuous than a rock, for practicing your magic. Prettier, too. I thought it might help.”

“It will,” Su nodded, biting her tongue so that she wouldn’t cry. She pulled them in for another hug, realising for the first time that she would miss them while she was at school. It wasn’t something she’d really thought about until just then.

“You’ll do great, Su,” Nathan grinned.

“Write to us, okay?”

“I will.”

Su climbed onto the train, waving goodbye to Nathan and Beatrice, her shrunken trunk in one pocket and her new miniature snitch in the other. Draco strutted past her when he had said his goodbyes to his parents, but Blaise smiled at her and gestured for her to follow him down the train.

“Let’s go find your friends,” he said.

* * *

Harry woke up at five in the morning on September first and was too excited to go back to sleep. He dressed quickly, checked and double-checked his trunk, making sure that he had everything he needed, let Hedwig out of her cage so that she could fly to Hogwarts herself, and then paced around Dudley’s second bedroom, waiting for the Dursleys to wake up.

At six-thirty he went downstairs to start cooking breakfast. Cooking had become his favourite chore throughout August. He would pretend that he was cooking up sinister poisons and potions to turn his uncle into a hippo and his aunt into a giraffe.

He’d also been reading through his potions textbook, although some of the instructions didn’t make much sense to him. What difference did it make whether he stirred the pot clockwise or widdershins? Was it important that his knife be silver when slicing ingredients, or could he substitute gold or steel?

He hoped that Su would be able to explain these more ‘magical’ aspects of potions to him at school. She’d tried to explain it in letters, but he still wasn’t entirely sure what she was talking about.

They’d been writing to each other almost every day, talking about what classes they were looking forward to and what houses they hoped to be sorted into. Su was excited for potions and charms, while Harry was looking forward to flying and transfiguration and charms, especially after hearing that those were subjects his parents were good at.

Su thought that she would probably be Ravenclaw, but she couldn’t quite dismiss the other houses entirely. Harry had no idea what house he would be in, though he doubted he’d be a Ravenclaw, confessing to Su that he wasn’t exactly a star student.

 _Ravenclaw isn’t the house of good grades_ , Su had written back. _It’s a house that values curiosity and learning. As long as you want to learn new things, I’m sure you’d fit in just fine in Ravenclaw. If that’s where you end up. But yeah, you probably won’t be a Ravenclaw_.

And then she’d added a picture of a laughing face next to that. Harry had made sure to tell her that her drawing was terrible, which it was. But it had also made him laugh.

The Dursleys didn’t come downstairs for breakfast until eight-thirty, as it was a Sunday and they all wanted to sleep in. Vernon and Dudley complained about breakfast, although Harry was sure it was the best food he’d cooked in his life – he’d made a full spread of scrambled eggs, bacon, fried tomatoes, toast, butter, sausages, mushrooms, and even some congee from a recipe Su had sent him.

Still, the Dursleys would complain about anything as long as it came from Harry.

By nine-thirty, they still hadn’t left the house, and Harry was itching with impatience. He didn’t dare say anything though, as asking Uncle Vernon to hurry was a sure way to get him to slow down. He did mention that he was excited to be going to _boarding school_ and that he would be _away for almost a whole year_ , which was definitely going to be a perk for both him and the Dursleys.

Eventually, Harry’s huge, heavy trunk was loaded into the Dursleys’ car, and they set off, reaching King’s Cross Station at around half-past ten. Uncle Vernon made Harry load his school things onto a trolley by himself, smirking the whole time since the trunk was almost the same size as Harry.

Then he led Harry into the station.

“Well, there you are, boy,” Vernon smirked. “Platform nine. Platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don’t seem to have built it yet, do they?” He chortled, his moustache bouncing off his cheeks.

“Have a good school year. Don’t come back until June.” And then, without waiting for a goodbye, he went back to the car, leaving Harry to fend for himself.

Harry swallowed and pulled his ticket out of his pocket.

_Platform 9 ¾._

Thank god for Su who had written to tell him how to get onto the platform. Harry didn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t know about the barrier. It’s not like it was an obvious answer.

He tried to act casual, just walking his trolley into a barrier like it was no big deal. Even knowing the trick to it, he was still surprised by the complete lack of resistance as he went through, tripping over his own feet as he passed through the bricks.

On the other side of the barrier, there was a whole other world. Harry didn’t know if Platform 9 ¾ was actually in between Platforms 9 and 10 at King’s Cross, or if he’d simply been teleported to another location, because it felt like he wasn’t even in London anymore.

The platform was much larger than the muggle platforms at King’s Cross, even with the combined width of 9 and 10. There were hundreds, possibly thousands of people crammed into the space, wearing bright colours and intricate patterns in robes and tunics of all designs.

Harry suddenly felt quite self-conscious in his obviously non-wizarding clothes. Though he looked like a normal kid in London, in his jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers, he stood out like a sore thumb in this new world. The boys his age on this platform were all wearing calf-high boots and cotton trousers under long shirts decorated with fancy buttons, embroidery, and enchanted prints that moved or flashed or glittered.

Harry, small for his age, felt even tinier in this unfamiliar crowd.

He checked his watch. Quarter to eleven. The train would leave in fifteen minutes. He had fifteen minutes to get his luggage on the train and find Su, his only friend at Hogwarts so far.

So Harry started pushing his way slowly – very slowly – through the crowd.

“Sorry. Excuse me. Excuse me. Can I please get to the train?” It became almost a chant as he wheeled his trolley closer and closer to the train. Plus, he kept getting distracted looking at the crowds, seeing the strange clothes or bizarre trinkets or catching snatches of conversation about brooms and classes and the latest fashions.

He couldn’t see Su anywhere at all, though he saw one or two other girls who looked similar. They were all taller than Su, though. She was shorter than Harry, even, and he suspected he probably wouldn’t find her at all in this crowd.

He did, however, find a toad. Or, rather, he almost ran over it, and then squeaked in surprise when it bounced quickly out of the way of his trolley. It looked like… was it wearing a collar?

Harry frowned and picked up the toad. It was, in fact, wearing a tiny collar, which said “TREVOR” on it in neat blocked letters.

“Has somebody lost a toad?” He shouted, still staring at the creature in his hands.

“Trevor!” Someone else shouted back, slightly muffled by the noise of the crowd.

“Trevor’s over here!” Harry shouted. “Your toad is over here!”

He saw the approach of the toad’s owner through the disgruntled faces of the witches and wizards in the way, all wincing and scowling as they were shoved aside by a round, red-faced boy about the same age as Harry.

“Trevor!” the boy exclaimed, not pleased, but relieved to find his toad. Harry dutifully passed the pet to the boy and then hovered, not sure what to say.

“Hi, I’m, er— I’m Harry,” he said.

“Oh! Hi. I’m Neville,” said the boy, noticing Harry for the first time. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for finding my toad. He’s always getting lost.”

“Maybe you can get him a leash,” Harry suggested awkwardly. He’d never seen a toad with a leash, but he’d seen at least twenty things today that he’d never seen before. He wasn’t sure anything in the wizarding world could surprise him more than magic simply existing.

“Maybe,” Neville tilted his head, thoughtful. He was taller and heavier than Harry, with blue-grey eyes and sand-coloured hair. Despite his size, he had an aura as small as Harry’s in this crowd, looking dolefully down at Trevor. A kindred spirit.

“Could you help me get my bags to the train?” Harry asked. Maybe he could make another friend. Neville perked up a little, a small smile on his lips.

“Of course!” he said. “Come on!”

He went ahead of Harry, gently nudging people aside to make way for the trolley. As they walked, Harry made small talk with the other boy, asking general questions about Hogwarts and Neville’s potential house.

“I don’t know,” Neville admitted. “My whole family’s been in Gryffindor for ten generations, but I don’t know if I’m brave enough. I’ll probably end up in Hufflepuff and get disowned.”

Harry frowned.

“What’s wrong with Hufflepuff?” he asked. He’d been hearing a number people lament over the house, but he couldn’t really figure out why people didn’t like it. Hard work and loyalty seemed like pretty good traits to Harry.

“Oh, well, nothing, I guess,” said Neville. “Not really. But its– the other houses have– the other _founders_ wanted specific kinds of wizards. Like, brave or smart or cunning, but Helga Hufflepuff took everyone else. The leftovers. So Hufflepuff is– it’s the leftover-house. The ones nobody else wanted.”

“Oh.”

 _I’ll probably be a Hufflepuff_ , thought Harry. _What if Su doesn’t want to be friends with a Hufflepuff? What if I’m a loser and she doesn’t want to hang out with me anymore?_ As soon as he thought it, Harry felt bad. Of course Su wouldn’t stop being friends with him just because he was a Hufflepuff. She hadn’t written anything bad about any of the houses all summer, not even Slytherin or Hufflepuff, which seemed to have the worst reputations of the houses.

“Well, I want you around,” he said to Neville, who looked startled. Harry tried for a reassuring smile. “We’re friends now, right?”

“Friends?” Neville repeated. Then he smiled. “We’re friends?”

“Course!” Harry grinned. “I found your toad and you helped me get to the train. Isn’t that how you make friends?”

“I guess so. Here, let’s get your trunk on the train.”

Neville reached down and Harry pushed up and between the two of them, they were able to get the trunk into the carriage. The problem from there was that they were too short to put the trunk in the overhead storage.

“Want a hand?” Someone asked. It was a redheaded boy, probably a few years older than them, wearing a bright green sweater and yellow-and-blue checkered trousers.

“Yes, please,” said Harry.

“Oi! Fred! C’mere and help!” The boy shouted over his shoulder. Out of a nearby compartment appeared an identical boy in an identical sweater, though his trousers were striped orange and green.

“Help with what, George?” Fred asked.

“Ickle firsties with heavy trunks,” said George, grunting as he lifted Harry’s trunk. Fred shrugged and helped shove the luggage up into the overhead. It was crooked, but it was up, and that’s all Harry could really ask for.

“Thanks for that,” said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“What’s that?” One of the twins asked, peering at Harry’s scar.

“Blimey,” said the other. “Are you—”

“He is,” said the first. “Aren’t you?”

“Am I what?”

“Harry Potter,” the twins chorused.

“Oh, him,” said Harry. Right, of course, famous for surviving infancy. How could he forget? “I mean, yes. I am. Harry Potter, I mean.”

Both twins and Neville gaped at him, and Harry felt rather uncomfortable. He wondered if he could distract them from his being… well, himself.

 _Change the topic_ , he thought.

“So who are you, then?” he asked.

“He’s George,” said the one who’d called his brother Fred before, pointing left.

“I’m Fred,” said Fred, pointing at his brother.

“And I’m George,” said George, pointing to himself.

“Yep,” Fred agreed. “I’m George.”

“I’m confused,” Neville lamented, and the twins laughed.

“Only joking,” said Fred. “I’m Fred – probably. I like Fred better and he likes George better, so that’s what we go with.”

“I’m Harry, and this is my friend Neville,” Harry gestured politely to Neville, who looked slightly gobsmacked.

“Hi Neville,” George held out a hand, which Neville shook on autopilot, still blinking at Harry’s now-exposed scar.

“Do you get mixed up a lot?” Harry asked.

“We don’t mind too much,” Fred shrugged. “It’s good for a laugh, and some people can tell. Percy always can, and Luna. Dunno how they do it.”

“Me neither,” said Neville.

“FRED! GEORGE!”

“Coming, Mum!” George shouted back. “Bye Harry, Neville. See you at school.” They saluted the boys before running off to say a last goodbye to their mother, who was wiping the nose of another boy who seemed like their younger brother.

Harry watched a little wistfully as the twins teased their brother and exaggerated distaste when their mother kissed their cheeks. They looked happy – a big, friendly family. Harry had always longed for a family like that – had sometimes dreamed that the Dursleys _would_ leave him at an orphanage one day and that he’d be adopted into a big family with lots of children.

He looked away from the scene, only to notice a similar longing look on Neville’s face. Again, Harry had a feeling that he and Neville were kindred spirits.

“Come on, Neville,” he said, nudging his new friend. “Let’s sit together. This compartment looks empty.”

* * *

  
Su followed Blaise through the train as he looked for a compartment with people he recognised. She also peered inside, looking for any sign of Harry, but though they met a lot of Blaise’s acquaintances, Harry was nowhere to be seen.

She thought about asking anyone if they’d seen him, but she didn’t want to cause a fuss. She knew that Harry was famous – it was the entire premise of the book series – and didn’t want to start a commotion or seem like a fame-seeker.

Blaise introduced her to a number of older students who all seemed to be family friends of his – mostly Slytherins, but a number of students from other houses as well. The introductions came and went quickly, and Su wasn’t sure she’d remember all the names and faces, but hopefully she would remember some of them.

Soon they came across a compartment that seemed to be mostly made up of other first years like themselves. Su saw Malfoy flanked by two large, beefy boys who must have been Crabbe and Goyle. Sitting opposite the boys were four girls; one pale girl almost as big as Malfoy’s bodyguards, a sour-looking blonde girl, and two delicate-looking brunettes.

“Su, this is Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. You’ve already met Draco, of course. These lovely ladies are Millicent Bulstrode, Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and Isobel Runcorn. Everyone, this is Su Li.”

Su waved shyly at the collection of soon-to-be-Slytherins that Blaise introduced her to. She’d never liked Malfoy’s character, but the others didn’t feature as much, so she was unsure what to expect from them.

“Why don’t you sit with us for a while?” Blaise asked. “I’m sure your friend is around somewhere. What’s her name, anyway?”

“Harry,” said Su.

Malfoy scoffed and everyone turned to him.

“I’ll bet it’s Harry Potter, isn’t it? Got a bit of a crush, Li? A little star-struck to be going to school with a _celebrity_?”

Su blushed, knowing that he was half-right. Was wanting to be friends with your favourite book character the same as wanting to be friends with someone famous? Maybe it was. But that didn’t mean she didn’t genuinely like _Harry_ as a person.

They’d been writing to each other all summer, and she really liked their conversations about what school might be like and how excited they both were to be learning about magic. They were friends, but Malfoy and his friends didn’t know that.

“We met in Diagon Alley last month,” she said, truthfully. “I’ve been writing to him all summer. We’re friends.”

“Really?” Daphne leaned forward, her interest piqued.

“I didn’t know your friend was _Harry Potter_ ,” said Blaise, regarding her anew.

“What’s he like?” Daphne asked.

“He’s– he’s not really– he’s just a normal boy,” Su floundered, awkward when she was the centre of attention. “He’s my friend.” She didn’t really know what else to say.

“Does he really have a scar?” asked Daphne.

“I heard he was hideously disfigured,” said Pansy.

“Have you seen his scar?” asked Millicent.

“Does he remember fighting You-Know-Who?” asked Malfoy.

“What does he look like?” asked Daphne.

“I—” Su shrank back from the barrage of questions, stumbling into Blaise, who was still standing in the doorway.

“Don’t badger her,” said Blaise. “Be civil.”

“I think I should leave,” said Su, edging out of the compartment.

“You don’t have to,” Blaise frowned, following her out. The others looked as they wanted to follow too, but thankfully they stayed put. Blaise closed the door on the compartment and looked worriedly down at Su.

“You can sit with us,” he said again. “I’ll tell them not to pester you. They shouldn’t have anyway. It’s rather unseemly of them.”

“It’s okay,” said Su. “I understand. I guess it’s pretty exciting if you haven’t met him. But Harry’s just– he’s just Harry. He’s just a normal boy.”

“Not _that_ normal,” said Blaise, arching one eyebrow. Su rolled her eyes.

“Well, _besides_ that. He’s nervous about school and sorting’s the same as everyone else. He’s worried that he’s going to fail all his classes and that he’s not going to make any friends, and I have to reassure him that that’s ridiculous and he’ll be fine in classes and have plenty of friends.”

“Well, it sounds like he’s got a good friend in you.”

“I hope so,” said Su, frowning down at her hands. She didn’t know if she could be as good a friend as Ron and Hermione. She hoped she could, but maybe she should seek them out as well. Harry needed all the friends he could get.

Blaise ducked down a little so that he was eye level with Su. When she glanced up at him, he grinned, sly as a cat.

“I think we should be friends too,” he said.

“Why?”

“It might be interesting.”

Su couldn’t help but smile at him. “Maybe.” She looked down the train, now filling up with other students, and checked her watch. The train was about to leave. “I should go. Look for Harry.”

“The train’s about to leave,” said Blaise. “Sit with us for at least a little while. I’m sure Harry’s fine. Hogwarts wouldn’t leave its most famous student behind.”

“Wouldn’t it?” Su asked, thinking of how Harry and Ron had been unable to board the train in second year. And the number of times Harry – and his classmates – had almost been killed in school didn’t give Su a lot of confidence in Hogwarts’ care for its students, famous or not.

“Just come inside,” said Blaise.

Reluctantly, Su followed him back into the compartment, settling in next to Blaise, opposite Daphne and Isobel.

“Are you really friends with Harry Potter?” Daphne asked again, earning herself an elbow in the ribs from Isobel.

“Don’t be rude,” Isobel scolded. “I’m Isobel Runcorn. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” said Su.

“Do you know what house you’re going to be in?” Isobel asked. “I’m going to be in Slytherin, obviously. We all are. Runs in our families.”

“You could be a Ravenclaw, though,” said Millicent. “From your mum’s side.”

Isobel frowned.

“Well, maybe,” she said. “But I’ll probably be in Slytherin.”

“Slytherin’s the best house, obviously,” Malfoy announced. “All the best families go to Slytherin. It’s where leaders and influencers are born.”

“That’s a rather narrow worldview,” Su frowned. She _liked_ Slytherin, she really did, because Uncle Nate was a Slytherin and he was the best, but she didn’t think any of the houses were superior to the others, just different. She knew too many people – mostly Unspeakables – from different houses or schools to believe that any one house was better or worse than the others.

“What are you saying?” Malfoy snapped.

“Just– houses aren’t everything.” The rest of the compartment looked absolutely scandalised by the idea. Su tried to explain it to them. “I mean all the houses have something important to offer. Leaders can come from anywhere.”

“Even Hufflepuff?” Pansy scoffed.

“Even Hufflepuff,” Su insisted. Locke had been a Hufflepuff when she went to Hogwarts and she ran one of the Ministry’s busiest and craziest departments. Su knew firsthand that keeping Unspeakables organised was like trying to herd cats, but Locke still managed to keep everyone mostly on track.

“Hufflepuffs are entirely useless,” Malfoy drawled. “They’re a joke. It’s a wonder that house exists at all – no one wants leftovers and mudbloods.”

“Hufflepuffs are hardworking, determined, and organised,” said Su, thinking of Locke. “They get things done. Gryffindors tend to be more tactical, they make good sports captains for example. Ravenclaws lead by example, especially in research and development,” like Beatrice, “Slytherins tend to be political leaders, making deals and alliances and trades. Leaders can come from anywhere.” 

“So where do you think you’re going, then?” Blaise asked.

“I don’t know,” Su admitted. “Ravenclaw, maybe, but we can’t know for sure until the S— until we get to Hogwarts.” She tugged on her earlobe, annoyed by her near-slip about the Sorting Hat. She wasn’t supposed to know about the Sorting Hat until after she got to Hogwarts and was sorted, which was a silly tradition.

She’d already found two books referencing the Sorting Hat, whose original use extended beyond just once-a-year sorting’s. In Hogwarts’ past, the hat had been used to settle disputes between students, to determine the suitability of prefects and head students, to oversee OWL and NEWT exams, as an advisor to new headmasters, and as a mascot for the Hogwarts inter-school Quidditch team.

Granted, there wasn’t a lot of information on the sorting hat, its enchantments, and its history, and it was difficult for Su to track down any more information on it, seeing as the two books she’d read had both been borrowed from the Department of Mysteries. But it was a fascinating and complicated piece of magic and she couldn’t imagine why there weren’t more studies about it and more information readily available. Why did the sorting have to be some big mystery for some dumb kids anyway? It was a stupid tradition.

She looked up when Blaise nudged her knee with his own, realising that the rest of the compartment had begun a conversation – argument – about whether Slytherin was the best house (Malfoy, Crabbe, Pansy, and Millicent) or whether Su might have a point (Daphne and Isobel).

“What are you thinking about?” he asked her quietly.

“The sorting,” she answered, half-honest. Maybe she was more Slytherin than she thought. Her life was so built on lies it was easy to add a few smaller ones to the pile every now and then.

“Are you worried about it?”

“Not _worried_ , exactly,” she sighed. “Uncle Nate and Aunt Bea would be happy for me wherever I end up. I just don’t know if I’ll fit in. I don’t know if I–” _belong here_. She didn’t finish the sentence, trailing off into silence.

“I hope you’re a Slytherin,” Blaise murmured. Su raised her eyebrows in surprise. He shrugged back, nonchalant. “I think I’d like having you around.”

“And we can only be friends if I’m in Slytherin?”

“Well, not _only_ ,” he rolled his eyes. “But it’s easier if we’re in the same house.”

“And you’re a guaranteed Slytherin?”

“It runs in the family,” Blaise nodded. “My mother expects it.”

“Family legacy?” Su asked quietly.

“Something like that,” Blaise murmured. Su studied him and then looked around the compartment. They all thought they would be Slytherins, that they would inherit their parents’ legacies and one day lead their corner of the wizarding world – ‘lead’ in the same way their parents led. With threats and alliances and oppression of all opposition. Being Slytherin was a promise. Su wondered what might happen if any of them _weren’t_ in Slytherin.

“We can’t all be Slytherins,” she whispered to Blaise.

He regarded her seriously, some unknown light glinting in his proud eyes. Around them, the conversation had already turned to Quidditch, with Malfoy loudly bragging that he would definitely make the Slytherin team next year and was destined to become captain. Millicent was heckling him good-naturedly and Pansy was teasing but supportive.

They were all so _young_. Su included.

 _We’re not ready for this_ , she thought, thinking of Voldemort, of Death Eaters, of Cedric Diggory’s death and the Chamber of Secrets and all the other horrors that awaited them at Hogwarts. _We’re not ready for what’s coming. And we shouldn’t have to be._

“It doesn’t always work out,” she murmured.

“No, it doesn’t,” Blaise agreed.

* * *

  
Harry and Neville made themselves comfortable in the compartment they’d found, though Harry still found himself peering at the crowd, looking for Su anywhere. Maybe he just didn’t recognise her. He’d only met her once, a month ago. Maybe she’d dyed her hair or something since. Maybe he wasn’t remembering her properly. He’d know her when he saw her, though.

“Who’re you looking for?” Neville asked.

“My friend,” Harry answered absently. “Su. Her name’s Su.”

“Good luck, mate. She could be anywhere out there. Or on the train already.”

Harry sighed and settled back in his seat.

“You’re right. I probably won’t see her until we get to school, at this rate.”

“Yeah, but you definitely won’t miss her once we’re there,” said Neville. “Hogwarts isn’t a big school anymore. I think there’s less than a hundred first years this year.”

Harry frowned.

“Isn’t Hogwarts the biggest school in Wizarding Britain?”

“It is.”

“But—” Harry didn’t know how to explain. His muggle primary school had had three times as many students in his grade alone. There were three primary schools even bigger than his in the neighbouring suburbs. Hogwarts, compared to what he had known, was _tiny_.

“How many wizards are there?” he asked.

Neville was quiet for a moment, not even looking at Harry.

“Not many,” he said. “Not anymore. You-Know-Who killed them all.”

And it was such a big thing to say that Harry couldn’t say anything in response. So they just sat quietly together until the train left the station, slowly leaving smoggy London behind.

A few minutes after the train left the station there was a knock on the compartment door and the redheaded twins’ younger brother appeared in the doorway. He was tall for his age, much taller than Harry, and his limbs were long and gangly, his wrists and ankles exposed by his too-short sweater and trousers.

“Anyone sitting there?” he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry. “Everywhere else is full.”

Harry shook his head, and the boy sat down. He looked at Harry, wearing the same wary-hopeful expression Neville had worn when Harry said they were friends. Like he was hoping, but was afraid to hope, as well. Harry knew the feeling.

“I’m Harry,” said Harry, holding out his hand.

“Ron,” said the other boy, shaking it.

“Neville.” Neville shook Ron’s hand, too, and then they were quiet again.

“So, er, we met your brothers,” said Harry, trying to start a conversation.

“Which ones?” Ron squinted at him. “I’ve got loads.”

“Oh, uh. Fred and George.”

“They didn’t prank you, did they?”

“I don’t think so,” said Harry.

“They tried to confuse us with their names,” Neville pointed out.

“I don’t think that really counts,” said Harry. “Do they prank you a lot?”

“All the time,” Ron nodded miserably. “It’s not all bad. You just have to be careful what you eat. And where you put your feet. And what you touch.”

“That sounds like a lot,” said Harry.

“How many brothers do you have?” Neville asked.

“Five,” Ron sighed. “I’m the youngest. I get all the hand-me-downs. The trousers are Fred’s and the sweater was Charlie’s. Scabbers was Percy’s, but mum and dad got him an owl when he was made prefect, so Scabbers is mine now.”

“Scabbers?” Harry asked. Ron pulled a rat out of his pocket. It looked like it was dead until it suddenly startled when Ron poked it. It squeaked when it saw Harry and scrambled into Ron’s sweater.

“You have a pet rat?” Harry asked.

“Better than a toad,” said Neville, looking glumly at Trevor.

“I dunno, he’s pretty useless,” said Ron, scowling at the rat in his sweater. “Doesn’t do anything but sleep and eat.”

“Do you have any pets, Harry?” Neville asked.

“I’ve got an owl. Her name’s Hedwig.”

“An owl,” Neville sighed enviously.

“I’d love an owl,” said Ron, nodding. “What kind?”

“Snowy, I think.”

“She must be beautiful.”

Harry smiled.

“She is.” The best birthday present he’d ever received.

“Where is she now?” Ron asked.

“Flying to Hogwarts.”

“By herself?”

“She knows her way around,” Harry shrugged. “Better than me, probably.”

“Why’s that?” Ron asked.

“I don’t know anything about wizards,” Harry admitted. “I’ve been reading a bit, but– I’ll probably be rubbish at magic. I don’t know anything.”

“Nonsense,” Ron shook his head. “There’s loads of kids who come from muggle families and they all do fine. I mean, yeah, there’s some things they don’t know, but that’s mostly normal stuff like­– sports, or music, or something. Everyone’s about the same in classes.”

“I suppose,” said Harry.

“I think _I’m_ going to be the worst in the year,” Neville admitted quietly. “My family are all purebloods, but they thought I was a squib right up until last year.”

“Squib?” Harry repeated. _Purebloods_? He wondered.

“It’s a, uh, person from a magic family without any magic,” Neville explained.

“The opposite of a muggleborn,” Ron added helpfully.

“Oh,” said Harry. “What happened last year?”

“My Uncle Algie dropped me out a window. I thought I was going to die, but I bounced instead. He was so happy that I had magic that he bought me Trevor.”

Harry gaped at Neville, aghast. His family had done plenty of horrible things to him, including beating him, starving him, and locking him in the cupboard under the stairs for days on end. They’d often _threatened_ to kill him, especially Uncle Vernon, but they’d never actually _come close_.

“That’s just mental,” Ron shook his head, which concisely summed up Harry’s feelings on the subject.

“Yeah,” said Harry, a bit dumbly. “Mental.”

Neville frowned down at Trevor and Harry cast around for something to lift their moods. Fortunately, that was the moment when a sweet old lady knocked on the door of the compartment.

“Sweets, anyone?” she asked, gesturing to a trolley laden with magical treats of all kinds, including chocolate frogs, cauldron cakes, and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. Harry thought his eyes might pop out of his head for all the sights he had to see in the wizarding world.

He dug around in his pocket for the pouch of coins Hagrid had given him from his account at Gringotts. He’d never had money to spend on sweets the way Dudley had, and now he had a veritable fortune to share with his new friends.

“What do you guys want?” he asked Neville and Ron, already picking up at least one of everything. He wanted to try all the treats, even the ones that didn’t look particularly appetising, like the cockroach shaped lollies.

“I don’t need anything,” Ron protested.

“Me neither,” said Neville.

“I can’t eat all of this by myself,” said Harry, his arms already full of treats. He dropped them all in his seat and pushed his hair out of his eyes. He hardly noticed Ron’s eyes widening in surprise, already turning back to the cart to get a few more chocolate frogs and cauldron cakes.

“You’re a hungry boy, aren’t you?” the cart lady chuckled, eyes flicking briefly to his scar and then to his skinny arms and too-big jeans.

Harry nodded.

“How much?” he asked.

The cart lady looked at the pile of sweets on Harry’s seat – almost a quarter of everything she’d had on the cart display – and then at the skinny boy and his two morose friends.

“For you? Just a galleon,” she whispered, winking at him. “But only if you share with your friends, alright?”

“Of course!” Harry grinned, passing her one of the gold coins in his pouch.

“Have fun, Mr Potter,” said the cart lady. “I’ll be back this way in a few hours if you want lunch as well. Any requests?”

“I don’t think we’ll be hungry,” said Harry, looking back at his hoard of treats.

“Well, let me know when I come by, I’ll see if I can get you boys something nice.”

With that, she waved them goodbye and moved on to the next compartment, while Harry turned back to his two new friends and his magical sweets.

“Well?” he said, gesturing to the pile. “Come on, help me figure out what all these are.”

“You’re– you’re Harry Potter,” said Ron, pointing an accusing finger at Harry.

“Yes?” said Harry. “I told you that.”

“You said you were Harry, not _Harry Potter_ ,” said Ron.

“Oh. Right. Um, sorry?”

“Don’t be sorry!” Ron exclaimed, then flushed bright red. “I mean, you’re a hero. You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“I’m not a hero,” Harry shook his head. “I don’t know anything about the wizarding world. I don’t even know anything about my parents – I always thought they died in a car crash. I can’t remember anything about that night, except for a bright green light.”

“The killing curse,” Ron breathed. “It’s green.”

“See, I didn’t even know that,” said Harry, frustrated. “I don’t know anything about magic, or the wizarding world, or Voldemort—”

Ron and Neville gasped.

“What?”

“You said You-Know-Who’s name!”

“That’s just what I’m talking about,” Harry sighed. “I’m not trying to be brave or anything, I just never knew that I shouldn’t say his name. I don’t get it.”

“That’s how they get you,” Neville told him. “If you say the Dark Lord’s name the Death Eaters will come for you and kill you.”

“Death Eaters?” Harry frowned.

“You-Know-Who’s followers,” said Ron.

“I mean, I guess it’s less true now,” Neville admitted quietly. “Most of the Death Eaters are in Azkaban, or they’ve stopped following You-Know-Who since he, you know, died. But it used to happen a lot when we were little.”

He frowned down at his hands, somehow looking very small, even though he was bigger than both Harry and Ron.

“I’m sorry,” said Harry. “Here, have a–” he checked the label “– chocolate frog.”

“Thanks, Harry.” Neville smiled shyly and took the offered sweet.

“May I have one too?” Ron asked. “Please?”

“Of course!” Harry smiled, handing one to Ron and taking one for himself. He gaped in surprise when the frog in the box wriggled and jumped out of his hands. He scrambled to catch it while Ron and Neville laughed in surprise.

“They’re not real frogs are they?”

“They’re just enchanted,” said Ron. “Check your card, though. I’m missing Agrippa.”

“What?”

“ _Mphs ar uh ecbrels_ ,” said Neville, through a mouthful of wriggling frog legs.

“What?”

“The cards are collectables,” Neville said again, after finishing his frog. “Famous witches and wizards. I’ve got about five hundred, but I’m missing Demelza Nott.”

“I’ve got a Demelza,” said Ron. “I can trade you.”

While Neville and Ron started discussing possible trades with their cards, Harry quickly ate his frog – yummy, but oddly squirmy – and turned over the card in his own hands. It was a picture of an elderly man with half-moon spectacles, a long, crooked nose, and long silver hair. It was labelled ‘Albus Dumbledore’.

“So this is Dumbledore,” Harry murmured to himself. He’d been wondering about the wizard that Hagrid thought so highly of. He studied the picture, noting the lime green robes with a pattern of shooting stars in bright orange, and the clever twinkle in the old man’s blue eyes.

He turned the card over and read the description.

**Albus Dumbledore**

_Currently Headmaster of Hogwarts. Considered by many to be the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, his discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner Nicholas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling (a muggle sport)._

Harry turned the card back over and gasped in surprise.

“He’s gone!”

“Well you can’t expect him to hang around all day,” Ron mumbled through a mouthful of Cauldron Cake. “He’ll be back.”

“In the muggle world, people stay put in photos.”

“They don’t move at all?” Ron asked. “Weird!”

Ron and Neville cheerfully helped Harry open his chocolate frogs, giving him all of the cards they already had copies of at home, and promising to trade him a load of good cards for the one rare one they did find – Ron’s missing Agrippa.

“I’ll give you five cards for this, Harry!” Ron promised. “All the Quidditch greats, like Aoife O’Reilly and Gideon Petersen!”

“All right then,” Harry laughed, even though those names meant nothing to him. What was more important was the way that Ron’s whole face lit up with excitement and Neville had fondly shaken his head. What was more important was that Harry was making friends.

* * *

Su had been having fun with the compartment of young Slytherins, surprised in spite of herself. It was one thing to think that she liked Slytherins because Uncle Nate was one, but another thing entirely to enjoy the company of Harry’s school rivals. Well, Daphne and Blaise and Isobel, at least.

Even Pansy, Millicent, and Malfoy weren’t terrible – yet, she supposed – but they grated on her nerves a little. Something about their auras of complete confidence, bordering on arrogance, chafed her. Blaise had elements of the same attitude, but his interest in her was flattering. Maybe she was just biased because of what she’d read in the books. Despite their aloof attitudes, Su felt as though these future Slytherins were warming up to her, in their own way.

They’d spent the last couple hours talking about their summers – a lot of flying, shopping, and visits to France and Italy – and about school. Su was surprised to learn that everyone was just as concerned as she was about the Defence Professor – even more, in some cases.

“Father says everyone hired in the last ten years has been an idiot,” said Malfoy. “It’s a wonder anyone graduates knowing how to hold their wand. Thank Merlin for the ones who know what they’re doing. Merlin, but I’ll have to have so much tutoring in the holidays.”

“Mummy’s already shopping around for tutors,” Pansy agreed. “You never know with Dumbledore’s ilk, she says. They’re all done in the head.”

“I don’t understand why he doesn’t just break the curse,” Daphne huffed.

“Curse?” Su frowned.

“Don’t you know?” Isobel asked.

“I– I wasn’t originally supposed to go to Hogwarts,” Su stuttered. “I haven’t kept up.”

“Where were you supposed to go?” Isobel asked.

“The Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers are cursed,” said Blaise, at the same time. Su turned to him, ignoring Isobel’s question.

“All of them?”

“Apparently there was someone who wanted the position, years ago, but Dumbledore turned him down, so he jinxed the position,” Blaise explained. “Hogwarts hasn’t had a Defence professor last more than a year since.”

Su frowned.

“So why doesn’t Dumbledore do something?” she asked. “Isn’t he supposed to be the greatest wizard of our time or something?”

“Supposed to be,” Isobel muttered sourly.

“Dumbledore’s an addled old man, hungry for power and too foolish to use it wisely,” said Malfoy loftily, probably quoting his father.

“Some great wizard,” Millicent scoffed.

“Fool,” Crabbe agreed.

The train started slowing down and Su realised that they were pulling into another station. It wasn’t as big as King’s Cross, but there were a handful of teenagers waiting on the platform with their families.

It had never occurred to her that the Hogwarts Express might stop anywhere besides King’s Cross and Hogwarts itself, but then realised that was silly. Not everyone lived in or near London. Of course there might be students who would want to catch the train from stations nearer to them.

“I think I might get going,” she told Blaise, a little reluctantly.

“Going to see your boyfriend, Li?” Malfoy asked, though it was more teasing than aggressive. His attitude towards her had softened in the last few hours.

He stood up as well, quickly followed by Crabbe and Goyle. “I’ll come with you. Father thinks I ought to help Potter meet the right people.”

 _And what kinds of people are those?_ Su wanted to ask. But she thought she already knew the answer to that. And, if she was honest, she wanted to see where this might go. Malfoy, while somewhat spoiled and snobbish, was not evil. She didn’t like him, but maybe she didn’t have to hate him, either.

“All right.” She stood up. “Well, I’m off. It was nice meeting you all. I’ll see you at the sorting.”

“Don’t worry, Li,” said Malfoy, pulling her out of the compartment. “We’ll come back later. We can bring Potter, too. It’ll be fun!”

He seemed genuinely excited at the thought, the embodiment of an eleven-year-old keen to make a new friend. Su regarded him seriously, wondering if she might be able to prevent the animosity between Harry and Malfoy before it started.

They made their way down the train, peering into every compartment they passed. Sometimes they’d stop to chat with some older Slytherins, and Malfoy introduced Su to Marcus Flint, the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team. He towered over Malfoy and Su, though Crabbe and Goyle were almost as big as him already. He grunted at them when Malfoy said hello, but Malfoy didn’t take offence.

“I’m going to be on the team next year,” Malfoy informed her as they left the compartment. “Seeker of course. It’s the most important position, obviously.”

“Are you sure?” Su asked, then immediately wanted to take the words back. If she knew anything about Malfoy from both the books and the last few hours, it was that he took Quidditch very seriously. She may have just triggered a monologue.

“Of course it is! Seekers control the whole game. They have to be the smartest and fastest and best players on the team because the snitch is worth the most points and it ends the game.”

“Isn’t Quidditch a team sport though?” Su asked. “Seekers don’t really help their team much. They just kind of do their own thing.”

Malfoy looked at her aghast.

“You have been deeply misinformed, Li,” he said, in an imperious tone that she guessed was him mimicking his father again. “What kind of Quidditch have you been watching? Don’t answer that—” he held up a hand as Su opened her mouth to protest, “— it’s not important. A Seeker – a _good_ seeker – is a free agent within the game. They can herd bludgers away from their team and towards their Beaters, they can run interference with opposing Chasers or act as second Keepers. They can overlook the whole pitch and call plays to their teams, or evaluate the oppositions strategy patterns— Li, Seekers _make_ the team.”

“But if Seekers are busy doing all that, what if the other team catches the snitch?”

“If they’re any Seeker worth their salt they can keep an eye out for the snitch _while_ helping their team,” Malfoy sniffed.

Su tugged her earlobe, frowning at Malfoy. As far as she could remember, in the books he’d always been a bit one-track with Quidditch games in terms of seeking out the snitch only. She didn’t remember reading about Seekers interfering with the gameplay of their teammates at all. At least, she didn’t remember Harry doing any such thing.

Malfoy was still detailing the ways that a Seeker could aid their team and interfere with opposition plays as they made their way down the train and opened the compartment holding the Weasley Twins, a boy with dreadlocks and a box labelled ‘BOB’, and a blonde girl. All of them were already wearing their school robes, decorated with Gryffindor colours. 

“Hullo there, small children,” one of the twins grinned at Su and Malfoy. He spotted Crabbe and Goyle lurking behind them and his eyebrows flew all the way up into his hairline. “And slightly less small children.”

“Hello,” Su beamed at them. The Weasley Twins! They were some of her favourite characters in the books. She’d always thought they would be fun friends.

Malfoy, however, sneered.

“Red hair,” he observed. “Hand-me—OOF!”

Su had elbowed him in the ribs. Did he have a script or something for meeting Weasleys? Honestly though, if he got on the twins’ bad side he probably wouldn’t sleep for the next five years – they were relentless pranksters.

“Be nice,” she said. Malfoy glared at her viciously and Su frowned back. “They’re a lot bigger than you.”

“So?” he whispered back. “Their whole family are blood traitors. You don’t want anything to do with their kind.”

“Don’t make enemies when you can make friends,” Su whispered back – a Slytherin motto that Uncle Nate had told her. Malfoy’s eyebrows jumped up in surprise – he hadn’t expected that. She clearly didn’t strike him as the Slytherin type.

“Sorry for my friend,” she said to the twins and their friends. “He’s positive he’ll be Slytherin and thinks the Gryffindor feud is a real thing. Even though he’s not in Slytherin yet.”

“ _Yet_ ,” Malfoy emphasised sulkily.

“And you don’t?” the blonde girl asked.

“I haven’t decided yet,” said Su. “I’m Su Li, this is Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, and Gregory Goyle.”

The twins’ expressions turned carefully blank at the boys’ names. Su bit her tongue and hoped that they wouldn’t dislike her because she’d introduced herself as a friend to – some admittedly unpleasant – pureblood names.

“I’m Fred Weasley,” said one of the twins. “My brother, George. Lee Jordan. Alicia Spinnet.”

“And Bob,” Lee interjected, holding up the box.

“Bob?” Malfoy scoffed.

Lee grinned and held up the box.

“Wanna see?”

All four first-years leaned in close. Out of the corner of her eye, Su could see Alicia groan and cradle her face in her hands. The twins looked positively gleeful. What was she forgetting, here?

Inside the box was the largest, hairiest spider she’d ever seen. She swallowed a scream at the sight of it, but couldn’t help shuddering back from it when it skittered around and turned its eight beady eyes on her.

“Gross, gross, gross, gross,” she chanted, scooting backwards and tripping over Goyle behind her. She barely noticed the boys scrambling with her, too preoccupied with the creepy thing in the box.

Lee and the twins cracked up laughing. Alicia just rolled her eyes.

“Boys,” she muttered to herself, offering Su a look of sympathy. “It’s harmless, really. Just hairy and gross.”

“I don’t like things with too many legs,” Su shivered. “They… they’re just _wrong_.” Cockroaches, millipedes, spiders – they all freaked her out. They just moved in freaky ways and she couldn’t deal with it.

“Let’s go, Li,” Malfoy tugged on her arm.

“Let’s,” Su nodded. She waved goodbye to the Gryffindors, less enthusiastic than when she’d said hello. The boys were still struggling to control their laughter after pranking the eleven-year-olds, and Alicia remained unimpressed.

“That was just hideous,” Su said as they walked away from the compartment.

“Weasleys,” Malfoy scoffed. “They’re all heathens. Father says the whole family should just be wiped out.”

“That’s a little extreme,” said Su.

“They just tried to kill us!”

“Now you’re just being dramatic,” Su rolled her eyes. With the spider now out of sight, she was much more composed. “Just because you were scared—”

“I wasn’t _scared_!”

“— doesn’t mean that you can just go saying people should die.”

“I didn’t mean they should _die_ ,” Malfoy scowled.

“Then what did you mean?”

Malfoy sniffed and turned away.

“ _You_ were scared,” he muttered sullenly.

They made their way quietly down the train, Crabbe and Goyle lumbering behind them. Some of the compartments they passed held older students catching up after a summer apart, but more often than not the compartments were completely empty. The train was clearly built for a much greater number of students than what currently attended Hogwarts.

“It’s like a ghost town,” Su murmured as they passed through a carriage that was entirely empty. It was absent of even the vague chatter of students and the only thing to be heard was the quiet padding of their feet on the carpeted corridor.

“It was the war,” Goyle told her quietly. Su started. She’d forgotten the other boys were even there, they were so quiet.

“Pardon?”

“The war,” Goyle said again. “That’s why nobody’s here. A lot of people died. A lot of old families were wiped out, or they moved to the Continent. Britain wasn’t safe for anyone when You-Know-Who was around.”

“Good riddance!” Malfoy declared, though he too looked uneasy at the sight of so many empty compartments. “If they were too weak to survive or stay their ground then we didn’t need them anyway. Most of them were blood traitors and muggle-loving idiots. My father said—”

“Enough, Malfoy,” Su cut him off. For some reason, the empty carriage reminded her of a graveyard, especially after passing through the rowdier carriages. The silence felt like a heavy weight, pressing down on her lungs. It was hard to breathe, here. It reminded her of that place beyond the Veil.

Without waiting for a response she sped up to get to the end of the carriage. In the next carriage over, she could hear the vague chatter of other students and breathed out a sigh of relief. She couldn’t take the oppressive emptiness of the previous carriage a moment longer. It looked as though this was the last carriage on the train, so Harry had to be around here somewhere.

After a few moments Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle appeared behind her. Malfoy was fuming quietly, glaring at Su before shouldering past her and continuing his search for Harry Potter.

Crabbe followed suit, but Goyle stayed by her side and patted her head gently. Su blinked up at him, confused.

“It’s okay to be sad,” he told her. “Malfoy knows that too, but sometimes he forgets. He thinks he has to be like his father and, um, separate himself from his emo- emo- from his feelings.”

“He doesn’t have to be such a jerk about it,” Su muttered, sour.

“He thinks he has to be like his father,” Goyle repeated, before walking away to catch up with Malfoy and Crabbe.

* * *

“We’d better change into our robes,” said Neville, looking out the window as they passed the second station. “We’re supposed to be in uniform when we get to school.”

“What do you think it’ll be like?” Harry asked. “Hogwarts, I mean.”

“Dunno,” Ron grunted as he dragged his trunk off the rack. “Charlie was always talking about either Quidditch or Care of Magical Creatures. Quidditch is brilliant of course, but Care of Magical Creatures sounds bonkers. There was always at least one student sent to the Hospital Wing.”

“What’s Quidditch?” Harry asked. He’d heard it mentioned a few times now, but he had no idea what it meant.

“What’s Quidditch?!” Someone else exclaimed, sounding scandalised. At the door of the compartment was the pale boy Harry had met at Madam Malkin’s robe shop. He was gaping at Harry with the exact same look of horror that Ron was sporting.

“What’s Quidditch?” Ron repeated, equally scandalised. “It’s only the best game in wizarding history!”

“It’s the most brilliant game in the entirety of civilisation,” the pale boy added. “A gentlemen’s sport. A game of strategy and high stakes.”

“Intense manoeuvres and tactics!”

“The best fliers in the world all compete in Quidditch!”

“Okay?” Harry nodded, pushing his bangs out of his eyes. The pale boy’s eyes widened as he saw the scar.

“Harry Potter!” He shouted, startling Harry. “You don’t know what Quidditch is? What kind of life have you been living? Listen–”

Without even introducing himself, he grabbed Harry’s sleeve and pulled him onto the booth seat. “A Quidditch team has seven players. A Keeper, two Beaters, three Chasers, and, most importantly, the Seeker.”

“Maybe introduce yourself first, Malfoy,” a girl sniggered. Su leaned against the door of the compartment, laughing at the look of bafflement on Harry’s face and the indignant intensity on Malfoy’s. Crabbe and Goyle were hovering behind her, looking uncertainly at their ‘leader’.

“What?” Malfoy blinked, and then instantly reddened. He looked at Harry and cleared his throat, straightening his posture to look as mature as possible.

“Right, of course. I’m Malfoy. Draco Malfoy,” he held out his hand to Harry.

“Er, I’m Harry Potter,” Harry shook Malfoy’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” He looked up at Su and gave her a small wave. “Hi Su.”

“Hi Harry,” she smiled and sat on the seat across from him, next to Ron.

“I’m Su Li,” she introduced herself, shaking hands with Neville and Ron.

“Neville Longbottom.”

“Ron Weasley.”

“And this is Crabbe and Goyle,” Malfoy pointed at his friends, who also took their seats in the compartment, on either side of the door.

“There are four balls in Quidditch,” said Malfoy, diverting back to the most important topic. “The Quaffle, two Bludgers, and the Golden Snitch.”

“The Chasers have to put the Quaffle into one of the three hoops at the end of the pitch,” Ron interrupted. “It’s the Keeper’s job to defend their hoops.”

“Beaters play interference,” Malfoy re-interrupted, glaring at Ron for stealing his thunder. “They hit the bludgers at the opposing team to mess with them.”

Su and Neville exchanged a look of amusement as Ron and Malfoy traded off explaining the ins and outs of Quidditch, talking over the top of each other constantly and then devolving into an argument over the importance of the Seeker in comparison to the entire team. Malfoy was obviously pro-Seeker, whilst Ron valued the Keeper most as it was a position that allowed a Keeper-Captain to best strategize for the whole team.

As Ron and Malfoy bickered, Su exchanged an amused glance with Harry, kicking his ankle lightly.

“How was your summer, Harry?”

“Long,” Harry admitted. “I couldn’t wait to go to Hogwarts. What do you think it’s going to be like?”

“I don’t know,” said Su, truthfully. There was a lot that couldn’t be conveyed only through the books, and she already knew that the world looked much different from the films – more vibrant, more real. What would Hogwarts castle be like? How treacherous would the moving staircases be? What would her common room be like? What house would she be in?

“I’m excited though,” she said. “We’re going to be learning _magic_. Real, proper magic like transfiguration and charms. Although, Uncle Nate said we’re not going to learn anything really useful until, like, third year.”

“Do you think they’ll teach us to fly?” Harry asked.

“We take flying lessons in first year,” said Neville, quietly. “My Uncle Algie says they throw us off the Astronomy Tower with a broom.”

“They’re not going to throw us off the Astronomy Tower,” Su said. “That’s just silly. They’ll probably teach us on the ground – basics like hovering and stuff.”

“Have you ever flown a broom?” Harry asked.

Su shook her head.

“I want to try, though. It looks fun.”

There was a knock on the door, and a stern-looking redhead wearing spectacles frowned down at the children, looking even sterner when he spotted Malfoy and Ron still bickering – now over the value of the Chudley Cannons in the Quidditch League.

“Ron.”

“Percy!” Ron looked up, frowning back at his brother. “What’re you doing here?”

“I’m patrolling the train. You should change into your school robes. We’ll be arriving at Hogwarts soon.” He examined the first-years in the compartment, sizing up Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle especially. Then he drew a handkerchief out of his sleeve and threw it at Ron.

“You’ve got dirt on your face,” he said, then spun on his heel and left.

“He seems… serious,” said Su, after a moment of silence.

Ron sullenly scrubbed at his face with the handkerchief and explained: “He’s always been like this, but it got so much worse when he became a prefect.”

“Is he one of your brothers?” Neville asked.

“Third-oldest,” Ron nodded.

“We’d better go back and get changed into our robes,” Su said, standing up. “Harry, I’ll see you when we get to school – save a seat for me on the boat, okay?”

 _Boat?_ Harry wondered, but waved goodbye to Su all the same.

“It was nice meeting you, Malfoy,” he said to the blonde boy. “You can tell me more about Quidditch later.”

“Of course!” Malfoy puffed up, his smirk bordering on a smile. “You know, if it weren’t for that silly rule about first-years not qualifying for teams, I’d be Seeker for Slytherin this year!”

“Well, there’s always next year,” Su hummed, tugging Malfoy out of the compartment. “It was nice to meet you guys,” she smiled at Neville and Ron.

The boys mumbled something back and then Su and the trio of future Slytherins disappeared down the corridor.

Harry, Neville, and Ron quickly got changed into their school robes and then struggled for a few minutes trying to put their trunks back on the rack, giving up after a while because their eleven-year-old arms were too scrawny to do so.

For Harry, wearing robes was a rather novel experience. The loose-sleeved outer robe was draped over a short black top tucked into wide trousers that were almost skirt-like, giving him a strange feeling of floating every time he took a step.

Madam Malkin had given him the ‘traditional style’. Neville had very similar robes, but Ron’s were less black and more a dark grey, and the sleeves were slightly too short on him, though he wore the same long trousers as the other two boys.

“They’re Bill’s old ones,” Ron muttered, embarrassed.

“Maybe we can ask someone to charm them longer,” Harry suggested, thinking of how Su had written to him about household spells over the summer. “I’m sure there’s a spell for that.”

“We’d need more fabric,” Ron shook his head.

“I think there will be some in a lost property bin,” said Harry. A lot of his clothes had come from lost property bins over the years, especially since Dudley’s hand-me-downs never fit him.

Soon the train lurched to a stop and all the students poured out onto a lantern-lit platform. Harry spotted a lantern a little less steady than the rest and then realised that it was actually just a very big man holding a lamp.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!” Hagrid shouted, beaming when he spotted Harry in the crowd. “All righ’ there, Harry?”

“Never better,” Harry grinned back, meaning it.

“Where’s your friend?” Hagrid looked around at all the tiny first years crowding towards him, looking for that girl Harry had met in Diagon Alley. 

“Hello, Hagrid!” an especially tiny girl waved at him. Ah! There she was! Hagrid frowned when he noticed the dark-skinned boy walking beside her and the extraordinarily pale boy just behind her.

The Zabinis and Malfoys were old blood, both Ancient and Noble Houses that had been Slytherins for generations. It wouldn’t do for James and Lily’s boy to fall in with their lot.

However, Su quickly caught up to Harry and grinned up at Hagrid. She didn’t look frightened or wary like many of the other students. In fact, she looked absolutely thrilled to see him.

Hagrid relaxed. At the very least the girl seemed to have a good heart. And he knew Nathan Li was a good man, despite being a Slytherin.

“All righ’ – any more firs’ years?” he shouted, examining the platform. “No? Right, follow me! Mind yer step now!”

Stumbling in the dark, they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep and narrow flight of stairs carved out of the rock. Nobody spoke much, too busy trying to keep their balance.

“Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in just a minute,” Hagrid called over his shoulder. “Jus’ round this bend here.”

They rounded the corner and all the children gasped. Hagrid felt himself swelling up with pride. Hogwarts Castle – one of the finest schools in wizarding history, a marvel of magical architecture, and his home of fifty years.

Harry and Su gaped, their eyes widening to comic proportions. They were standing on the edge of a great lake, like a dark mirror reflecting the night sky. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side was a vast castle made up of assorted turrets and towers, its sparkling windows blending with the starry sky.

“No more ‘n four to a boat,” Hagrid commanded, leading the first years to a small fleet of what looked like rowboats without oars.

“I’ll see you later,” Su said to Blaise, and then she climbed into the boat with Harry, Neville, and Ron. She gripped Harry’s hand tightly, looking all around her with wide eyes. Harry couldn’t help but feel infected by her enthusiasm, leaning over the edge of the boat to touch the water and to see if he could spy any mythical creatures in the lake.

“It’s Hogwarts, it’s really Hogwarts!” Su giggled, smiling so hard that her cheeks hurt. None of the other kids seemed to have the same high level of excitement as her, but that was understandable. None of them had accidentally fallen into the magical world of their favourite novels.

Before she’d died, Su had dreamed of being a student at Hogwarts. Now that dream was coming true.

The fleet of boats arrived at the sheer cliff face that Hogwarts sat above, and passed through a curtain of ivy that hid a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle. Soon, they reached an underground harbour lit by floating torches, and the students all clambered out onto the rocky shore.

They climbed up a long passageway, following Hagrid’s bobbing lamp, and finally emerged in the shadow of the castle, finding themselves crowded around the enormous front door – easily several times as tall as the enormous Hagrid.

The man in question raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the door.

After a moment’s pause, the door creaked slowly open.


	3. Welcome to Hogwarts

The door creaked open, revealing a tall, black-haired witch in emerald green robes. She examined the first years with a stern, serious expression, lips pressed together tightly.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid.

Su blinked in surprise, and then looked at the witch again. She hadn’t expected Professor McGonagall to look so young, remembering the grandmotherly character in the films.

“Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here.”

The younger-than-expected Professor McGonagall led the students into the entrance hall, which almost reminded Su of a cathedral with its high, high ceilings, stone walls, and flaming torches. Su could see some of the paintings on the wall shifting as the occupants peered at the new students.

On one side of the entrance hall was a grand marble staircase leading to the upper floors, and on the other was another set of enormous wooden doors.

Professor McGonagall halted in front of the doors and swept her gaze over the group of first years, her heart squeezing painfully. It was one of the smallest groups of students she could ever remember receiving, barely fifty of them gathered around the door of the entrance hall.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she said. “The welcoming banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with your housemates, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend your free time in your house common room.”

“The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history, and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts your triumphs will earn points for your house, while any rule-breaking will lose them. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup – a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house you join.”

She paused to eye Malfoy and his friends, who were snickering to themselves. Under her stern look, they all immediately sobered up.

“The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you wait.”

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville’s cloak, which was crooked, and Su’s casually rolled sleeves. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.

Su grinned at him, combing out the tangles in her own hair with her fingers. Blaise, on her other side, was pristine and merely looked bored.

“I shall return when we are ready for you,” said McGonagall. “Please wait quietly.”

She opened the door of the hall, exposing them to the loud chatter of the older students. When the door closed again they were engulfed in a terrible silence.

“How, exactly, do they sort us into houses?” asked a girl standing nearby.

“Some sort of test, I think,” Ron replied. “My brother Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking.”

Harry paled immediately. A test? In front of the whole school? But he didn’t know anything yet – he wasn’t prepared for this. He looked around anxiously and saw that almost everyone else looked terrified – though Su and the boy beside her looked calm.

“It’ll be fine,” she assured Harry, ignoring the increasingly anxious muttering around her. “It’s not going to be anything dangerous.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” she smiled. “Harry, this is Blaise Zabini. I sat with him on the train. Blaise, this is my friend, Harry.”

“A pleasure,” said Blaise, shaking Harry’s hand. “It’s my honour to meet the saviour of the wizarding world.”

“I didn’t really do anything,” Harry blushed.

“What truly happened and what people _believe_ happened makes all the difference,” said Blaise.

The three of them startled when somebody screamed, turning around to see a stream of ghosts phasing through the wall, gossiping as they floated towards the first years. Su peered at them, spotting the Fat Friar and Bloody Baron immediately, but she was not entirely sure which ghost was Nearly-Headless Nick.

The door behind them opened suddenly, flooding the entrance hall with light and the sound of hundreds of chattering teenagers. Professor McGonagall appeared again and organised them into two lines, then gestured for them to follow her down the hall.

There were four long tables in the Great Hall, but Su noticed that they were each slightly less than half-full. She thought back to the empty carriage in the train and Goyle’s surprisingly soft voice:

_“It was the war.”_

She swallowed nervously and hurried to keep up with Professor McGonagall’s long strides.

Aside from the mostly empty tables, the Great Hall was spectacular. There were thousands of candles floating in mid-air over the tables. And the ceiling, of course, mimicked the sky outside, filled with twinkling stars and the bright moon. Somehow, despite the abundance of candles, Su could still clearly see many of the stars.

In the past, she had grown up in the suburbs, just outside the city, and the light pollution meant that she could only ever see a light smattering of stars on any given night. Seeing this many stars… it was breathtaking.

She could hear a girl – probably Hermione Granger – explaining to another student what she’d read about the Great Hall in _Hogwarts: A History_.

At the end of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them.

Su’s stomach churned nervously. She didn’t like being stared at by so many people. She felt as though the older students were looking particularly expectant and glanced at Harry beside her. It wasn’t a secret that Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts this year. Everyone was probably curious about what this ‘saviour of the wizarding world’ looked like, and what house he would join.

She watched as Professor McGonagall placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool, she placed a raggedy old hat. Well, she said hat, but after what must be a thousand years it looked more like a lump of greying, fraying cloth. Su could see the discoloured patches where the hat had been repaired or patched up, and if she squinted she could also see a number of what looked like ancient runes stitched into the cloth.

She was staring at the hat so intently that she almost jumped out of her skin when it started singing. Had it done that in the books? She couldn’t remember. She racked her brain but couldn’t recall.

 _“Oh, you may not think I’m pretty,_ _  
_ _but don’t judge on what you see,_ _  
_ _I’ll eat myself if you can find_ _  
_ _a smarter hat than me._

 _You can keep your bowlers black,  
your top hats sleek and tall,  
for I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_ _  
_ _and I can cap them all._

 _There’s nothing hidden in your head_ _  
_ _the Sorting Hat can’t see,_ _  
_ _so try me on and I will tell you_ _  
_ _where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,  
where dwell the brave at heart,  
their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
set Gryffindors apart._

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
where they are just and loyal,  
those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
and unafraid of toil._

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you’ve a ready mind, _ _  
_ _where those of wit and learning_ _  
_ _will always find their kind._

 _Or, perhaps, in Slytherin  
you’ll make your real friends. _ _  
_ _Those cunning folk use any means_ _  
_ _to achieve their ends._

 _So put me on! Don’t be afraid!_ _  
_ _And don’t get in a flap!_  
_You’re in safe hands, though I have none,_ _  
_ _for I’m a Thinking Cap!”_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. Su followed suit, frowning slightly. She knew that there were a lot of things in this world that were not included in the books, or that she couldn’t remember, but she couldn’t shake off the uncomfortable feeling of being entirely at a loss.

She thought that because she had read the books, she’d have the knowledge to arm herself and her friends against future dangers – Voldemort in particular. Having been caught off guard right from the beginning, Su wondered if she’d really be able to protect herself, let alone her friends and family.

The hat bowed to each of the four tables and then became still.

“So we’ve just got to try in the hat!” Ron exclaimed. “I’ll kill Fred and George. They were going on about wrestling a troll!”

Su giggled and exchanged a look with Harry. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking about, but he looked as nervous as she felt. She didn’t think it was a trial to put on the hat, but she didn’t like the idea of doing so in front of a crowd.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward, a long roll of parchment in hand.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted.”

She consulted the parchment.

“Abbot, Hannah!”

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of the line and put on the hat, which fell down over her eyes. A moment later, the hat screamed:

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

Su watched as the other first years got sorted, listening to names she recognised and names she did not. She watched with interest when Hermione Granger was called, having not met her on the train, and saw a petite black girl with a cloud of curls approach the stool. She was wearing a prim expression but her knees were shaking. Su wondered if she could become Hermione’s study-buddy, knowing that the other was often lauded as the smartest witch in school in the books.

As the other students were sorted, some taking only seconds and others taking a few minutes, Su grew more and more nervous. She didn’t belong in this world. She wasn’t even a real witch. What if the Sorting Hat realised this and decided to kick her out of Hogwarts? What if it told Dumbledore about her mysterious knowledge of the future? What if it exposed her as a fake to everyone watching?

She felt as though she might faint from fear.

“Li, Su!”

_Oh god._

Harry gave her a thumbs up, looking as ill as she felt, and Neville and Ron also smiled at her. Blaise nodded at her and mouthed, _“You’ll be fine.”_

Su did not feel fine.

Her knees shook as she walked towards the stool, and her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might break her ribs. She looked at the hat on the stool and her vision went wavy, making her feel like the next five steps were instead five miles, as though she would never make it to the Sorting Hat.

She wanted to escape to a hidden corner and pull out the snitch that Aunt Bea and Uncle Nate had given her before. She put her hand in her pocket and squeezed her fist around it, feeling the cold, hard metal pressing into her palm.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally clambered onto the stool and McGonagall dropped the Sorting Hat on her head. It fell right down to her chin, and distantly she could hear people giggling. She pushed the hat up slightly so that she exposed her mouth and nose to breathe, but otherwise kept it over her eyes.

She didn’t want to see the looks on people’s faces when they realised that she was a dead thing that didn’t belong here.

“Well,” said the Sorting Hat, a deep voice right beside her ear. “This is certainly interesting. You’re not from around here, are you?”

Su clutched the edges of the stool so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She wondered if the hat would protest against her throwing up in it in front of the whole school. She wanted to desperately in that moment to just go home – back to her ordinary, magic-less world, back with her family, and away from all this fear.

“Fascinating,” the Hat continued. “You're brave – much braver than you think. A have a strong yearning for family, for belonging.”

 _I just want to go home,_ Su thought, holding in her tears.

The Hat sighed.

“I suspect the only way back is the way that you came,” it told her. “And even that avenue is greatly uncertain.”

The way she came? Death? Or through the Veil? Was there any difference between the two, in the end?

“There are many deep and varied thoughts in your mind, for a girl as young as you are, and hidden, secret spaces…” the Hat trailed off, deep in thought.

There was a pause, and Su felt enveloped in silence. Even the distant chatter of the Great Hall had been blocked out by the Hat, and everything was dark and quiet. The only thing tethering Su to reality was her vice-grip on the edge of the stool.

 _You won’t tell anyone, will you?_ She asked. _Please don’t tell anyone._

“What do you take me for? A portrait?” The Hat scoffed. “I’m not a gossip. I was Godric Gryffindor’s own hat, back in the day. I was born on the head of one of the noblest and most chivalrous wizards in history!”

_So you won’t tell anyone? Not even Dumbledore?_

“Of course not,” The Hat’s tone softened. “He’s not the first Headmaster to ask after the thoughts of students and he won’t be the last, but I do not disclose such things unless there is a danger to Hogwarts. Your secrets are always safe with me.”

Su suddenly felt a weight lift off her chest, and found that it was much easier to breathe. Her shoulders relaxed and she let go of the stool. At the same time, the sounds of the Great Hall began to filter back into her ears. The low, restless murmur of students hungry for dinner.

“Now, to sort you,” said the Hat.

 _Gryffindor_ , Su thought immediately.

“You think so? Are you sure?”

_Harry’s a Gryffindor, and I’m his friend now. I have to protect him._

“I have not yet sorted Harry Potter, and he is not who I am sorting now. This time is for you, and you alone. Where did you want to go, before you diverted from the first path? Before you met Harry Potter?”

Su pursed her lips.

 _Ravenclaw_ , she admitted. _Or Slytherin._

“Family influence is common,” the Hat hummed as Su pictured Nathan and Beatrice. “In some cases the bloodline is so strong that I can sort students in less than a moment. In your case, I need a little time to think.”

Su kicked her feet as she waited for the Hat to sort her. Outside she could hear the Great Hall getting louder.

“Why’s it taking so long?” someone wondered.

“Our first Hat-Stall in years,” Professor McGonagall murmured nearby.

“Changing fate is certainly a great ambition,” the Hat told Su at last. “One with many twists and turns that you may not foresee. However, this goal was not formed from your natural instinct. I can see your deepest thoughts you know, even some of those that you have cast in shadow.”

 _What does that mean_? Su wondered.

“You’ve a naturally curious and meticulous mind, best suited for RAVENCLAW!” The house named was shouted out loud, and Su was caught off-guard by the sudden decision. After a moment she took off the Sorting Hat and nervously ran towards the Ravenclaw table, where Cho kindly scooted over so that Su could sit next to her.

“Welcome to Ravenclaw,” Cho smiled, wrapping Su in a quick hug. Su was still trembling quite badly, so Cho held one of her hands and squeezed gently.

“You’re okay,” Cho assured her. “Sometimes it takes a while for the Hat to make a decision. The longest was William Fiennes, a hundred years ago. It took twenty minutes before the Hat sorted him into Ravenclaw, he had to take the Hat off and come back for it after the rest of his class got sorted.”

As Cho was speaking Neville Longbottom walked up to the stool and placed the Hat on his head. The Hall was slowly getting louder as the older students chatted about their holidays, only vaguely paying attention to the sorting of new students.

Su listened as Cho explained how the Ravenclaw dorms worked, and how the password was, in fact, a riddle, in order to encourage students to think carefully. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Neville’s face move through a cycle of pale, red, sickly green, red, and then pale again.

She wondered if that was what she had looked like, throughout her tense conversation with the Sorting Hat.

When it finally shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!” Neville ran off still wearing the Hat, and had to jog back amidst gales of laughter to give it to Morag McDougal, who joined Su at the Ravenclaw table.

Su caught Neville’s eye and gave him a thumbs up. Neville smiled at her and returned the gesture.

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and was sorted into Slytherin almost as soon as the Hat touched his head. There were a few more students between Malfoy and Harry, including Pansy Parkinson and the Patil twins.

“Potter, Harry!” Professor McGonagall called out.

The whole room went silent.

Harry gulped nervously, as a sea of strangers turned as one to seek him out. He could see Neville at the Gryffindor table, still slightly red-faced, and Su at the Ravenclaw table, small and pale and tucked between two other girls.

“Go on,” Ron nudged him from behind, and Harry stumbled forward.

“Did she say _Potter_?” Someone asked.

“ _The_ Harry Potter?”

Numbly, Harry sat on the stool and let Professor McGonagall drop the Sorting Hat on his head. The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was Su’s wide eyes and shaky smile.

“Hmmm…” said a voice in his ear. “Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Little wonder she believed you were destined for Gryffindor.”

 _Who?_ Harry wondered. The Hat ignored him.

“Not a bad mind either, like your parents before you. Talent, yes, and a thirst to prove yourself! Now that’s interesting…”

 _Ravenclaw_ , thought Harry. _Or Gryffindor._

“For yourself, or for your friends?” The Hat asked. “You’ve a loyal heart Mr Potter, but this sorting is for you alone. Why not Slytherin? You could be great you know, and Slytherin would help you on the way to greatness.”

 _I don’t want to be great_ , Harry thought, remembering the way people’s faces changed when they heard his full name or saw his scar. He could still hear the distant murmur of gossip in the Great Hall, all those people with high expectations he wasn’t sure that he could live up to.

“What do you want?”

Involuntarily Harry pictured his parents, or what he thought his parents might look like, having never seen pictures of them before. He saw a vague shadow of a man with glasses and a woman with green eyes like his.

“A family, eh?” The Hat’s voice sounded both amused and gentle. “Well, I think I can help you with that, at the very least. If you want to go back to your roots, then it’d better be GRYFFINDOR!”

Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed the Hat off his head, scrubbing his sleeve across his eyes to stop them from watering so much. He walked over to join Neville at the Gryffindor table, smiling when the Weasley Twins offered him congratulatory high-fives. He hardly noticed that he was getting the loudest cheer of all the first years yet – he did, however, notice Su’s smile, and the thumbs-up she gave him from across the room.

Harry grinned back at her, promising himself that they would be friends, regardless of what house they were both in.

“I’m so pleased to meet you,” said Percy the Prefect, shaking his hand vigorously. The twins were waving their hands and chanting: “We got Potter! We got Potter!” And throwing particularly smug looks at the Slytherin table.

“I’m glad you’re a here, too, Harry,” Neville murmured. “Though I’m sorry you couldn’t be with Su. You seem like good friends.”

Harry glanced over at Su, who was sitting next to another pretty Asian girl and looked like she was quite comfortable. He looked back at Neville’s slightly sad expression and wondered if Neville was as nervous as he was about making new friends, or even any friends at all.

“Well, you and I can be good friends, too,” Harry suggested. 

Neville beamed at him, nodding vigorously. Harry liked Neville, as soft-spoken as he was. He was sure that they’d all get along, him, Neville, and Su.

He glanced over at the High Table as the other first years continued to be sorted. At the end nearest to him sat Hagrid, who caught his eye and gave him a thumbs-up. In the centre of the High Table, seated in an ornate golden throne, sat Albus Dumbledore – whom Harry recognised from the Chocolate Frog card.

Dumbledore caught his eye and winked at Harry, who quickly looked away, feeling slightly disconcerted. He turned his attention to the other teachers – a plump and cheerful looking woman speaking with an especially tiny gentleman, and an elegant looking woman talking to a man with an eyepatch.

Harry spotted Professor Quirrell, too – that nervous young man from the Leaky Cauldron. Though rather than the neat looking black robes he’d worn before, he was now dressed in a deep purple cloak with a matching purple turban.

 _Why a turban?_ Harry wondered, squinting at Professor Quirrell’s exceptionally pale face. _That doesn’t make sense at all._

After Isobel Runcorn – Ravenclaw – and Sally Smith – Hufflepuff – there were only four people left to be sorted. Dean Thomas joined Harry at the Gryffindor table and Lisa Turpin became a Ravenclaw, and then it was Ron’s turn. At this point, the youngest Weasley was a pale green colour that clashed horribly with his hair.

Across the table, Harry could see Percy and the twins leaning forward eagerly, their expressions turned serious. They need not have been so anxious, since Ron’s sorting was almost as fast as Malfoy’s, that hat barely grazing his red hair before shouting out: “GRYFFINDOR!”

Harry clapped and cheered along with Neville, Percy, Fred, and George.

Blaise Zabini was the last first year to be sorted. The Sorting Hat dropped over his eyes, paused for a few moments, and then screamed out: “SLYTHERIN!”

The Great Hall gave a collective sigh of relief as the Hat and stool were put away.

Harry looked down at his empty gold plate and realised just how hungry he was. He hadn’t eaten anything since those pumpkin pasties on the train.

Albus Dumbledore stood up and beamed at his students. Harry hoped he wasn’t about to make a speech – he was really, really hungry.

“Welcome!” shouted Dumbledore. “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words.”

 _Oh no,_ thought Harry.

“And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!”

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn’t know whether to laugh or not, but found that he wasn’t fabulously impressed with Dumbledore – supposedly the greatest wizard of modern times. He was a bit barmy, actually.

“Is he a bit mad?” Harry asked Percy, hoping that it was just a joke.

“Mad?” Percy repeated. “He’s a genius! Best wizard in the world! But, yes, he is a bit mad I suppose. Potatoes, Harry?”

Harry’s mouth dropped open, realising that the empty table was now piled with food. He’d never seen so many delicious things on one table; roast beef and roast chicken; pork ribs and lamb chops; sausages, bacon, and stead; boiled potatoes, mashed potatoes, roast potatoes, and chips; peas, carrots, broccoli, cauliflower, and – for some odd reason – peppermint humbugs.

Dudley had always eaten all the good food in the Dursley household, even if it made him sick, just so that Harry wouldn’t be able to. Now, however, there was no Dudley in sight, and Harry helped himself to a little bit of everything. Except for the peppermints.

Harry ate as much as he could, savouring every mouthful. Around him his fellow housemates were discussing their summers, chatting with the Gryffindor Ghost, Nearly-Headless Nick, and passing plates up and down the table.

Harry looked up at the High Table again. Hagrid was drinking deeply from his goblet; Professor McGonagall was talking to Professor Dumbledore; Quirrell, in his absurd turban, was talking to a teacher with greasy black hair, a hooked nose, and pale, sallow skin.

It happened very suddenly – the hooked-nose teacher looked past Quirrell’s turban, straight into Harry’s eyes, and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry’s forehead.

“Ouch!” Harry hissed, looking away and clapping a hand to his head.

“What is it?” asked Percy.

“N-nothing.”

The pain had gone as quickly as it had come.

Harder to shake off was the distinct sense of disdain and contempt from the hooked-nose man that had looked at him. It was a familiar feeling for Harry, especially from teachers.

The Dursleys had told the whole neighbourhood that Harry was a hooligan and a troublemaker, and so all the teachers had looked at Harry like that. It hadn’t helped, at the time, that Harry was the darkest-skinned kid in a neighbourhood of people who all looked like the Dursleys – blonde and pink-faced and sharp-eyed. They looked at him in his ill-fitting clothes and his badly-cut hair and despised him for not being like them, for not fitting in, for being _abnormal_.

“Who’s that teacher, talking to Professor Quirrell?” he asked Percy when he recovered himself. 

Percy looked up at the table.

“Oh, that’s Professor Snape. He teaches Potions – but everyone knows that he’s after the Defence Against the Dark Arts position. He was spitting mad last year when Quirrell announced he’d switched from Muggle Studies to Defence. Had a big row with Dumbledore about it.”

“Why’s he so set on it?” Hermione Granger asked, across the table.

“He knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts,” said Percy. “Stands to reason he’d know how to defend against them too.”

“Plus he hates children,” added another older student. “I bet his idea of teaching Defence is to cast Dark Arts at us and watch us squirm.”

There were murmurs of agreement from many of the older students down the table, but Harry just looked back at the table. He’d heard of Snape from Su, who’d heard about him from her cousin at school. He knew that he was a difficult, sour person who played favourites with the Slytherins and hated Gryffindors especially.

Snape didn’t look at him again, though Harry watched him for a while. Neither did he feel that sharp, burning pain in his scar… in his scar, not his head, just his scar.

Across the room, Su was picking lightly at the food on the table, most of which was too heavy for her taste. Cho noticed this and smiled lightly.

“It’s mostly English food here,” she told Su. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t mind it usually,” Su sighed, pushing away her plate. “I just… miss home.”

“You’ll get used to it,” said another voice, and Su looked up to find herself face-to-face with Penelope Clearwater.

“Penelope!”

“It’s good to see you again, Su,” Penelope smiled. “Hello, Cho.”

“You know each other?” Cho asked.

“We met in Diagon Alley,” said Su. “She helped me buy my trunk.”

Cho laughed, remembering being pestered all summer by Su about enchantments and charms and extensions she might need on all of her school equipment, especially brooms and trunks.

“I can imagine,” said Cho, giving Penelope a sympathetic look.

“Oh, shush,” Su blushed, noticing Cho’s attitude.

“It’s endearing,” Cho sniggered, wrapping Su in a one-armed hug. “You’ll fit right in here, in Ravenclaw. We’re all a little bit like that – extra keen.”

“Don’t worry Su, _I’ll_ answer all your questions,” Penelope grinned. Su abruptly remembered that Penelope had been Percy’s girlfriend in the books, and supposed that an extremely positive attitude towards studying and perfectionism would have contributed to their good relationship.

It made her feel better about being such a curious pest.

She chatted with Penelope, Cho, and Isobel about what to expect from Hogwarts and the time quickly passed by. Soon the steaks and potatoes and carrots disappeared from the table, only to be replaced moments later by dessert.

Ice cream in every flavour, apple pies, treacle tarts, rice pudding, strawberries… Su happily helped herself to sweets, which were much more to her taste.

Over dessert she asked Penelope to point out the Professors at the High Table, spying Quirrell, Snape, Hagrid, and Dumbledore, of course, but also learning new names like Professor Vector (Arithmancy Professor), Professor Sinistra (Astronomy), and Professor Kettleburn (Care of Magical Creatures).

Su examined Snape and Quirrell in particular, knowing both would be obstacles in the future in their own ways. Though Quirrell hosted the soul of the greatest Dark Lord in living memory, Su felt that Snape was more sinister in that he was an ongoing enemy of education, student morale, and non-Slytherins in general.

Also he was a jerk and she just didn’t like him.

Hagrid, at the end of the table, caught her eye and raised his goblet at her. Su smiled at him and did the same, though she grimaced at the taste of the pumpkin juice. Not her cup of tea at all.

This action caught the attention of someone else, and Su suddenly felt the hair rise on the back of her neck, feeling watched. Looking up she met the twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. Dressed in bold colours and clashing patterns, with a kindly face and long white hair, he looked like a wackier version of the Merlin cartoon from Disney’s _The Sword in the Stone™_ , more wild and whimsical than the portrayal of him in the Harry Potter films.

He was smiling at her, but there was something about his expression that felt probing, to Su, something scrutinising.

 _Does he know?_ She wondered. But that was impossible. Only the Unspeakables, Su, and possibly the Sorting Hat knew about her origins here. Dumbledore couldn’t have spoken with the Hat tonight because he’d been in the Great Hall all along, and the Hat had promised her that it wouldn’t tell anyone anyway.

A few moments later the probing gaze was gone, and Su felt like she could breathe again. When she looked up again, Dumbledore was chatting happily with Professor McGonagall.

Eventually the desserts also disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

“Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered,” Dumbledore began. “I have a few notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils except when supervised – a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well.” Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins.

“I have also been reminded by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.”

Penelope rolled her eyes.

“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for his or her house teams should contact Madam Hooch.”

Cho grinned and knocked her shoulder against Su’s.

“You’ll get in for sure,” said Su, entirely confident in her knowledge that Cho would become the Seeker for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.

“Finally, I must warn you that this year the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death.”

Isobel frowned.

“Typical,” she muttered.

“What’s that?” Penelope asked.

“Dumbledore leaving a death trap in a school populated by the next generation of wizards.”

“You shouldn’t speak about him like that,” Penelope frowned.

“She’s right though,” said Su. “Why is there something so deadly in a school full of kids? Why can’t he put whatever it is somewhere else?”

“Dumbledore must have a very good reason for it,” Penelope insisted. “He’s the greatest wizard of our time. Hogwarts is the safest place in the wizarding world.”

“He literally just said that we could die a very painful death! Here! In Hogwarts!”

“Su, that’s enough,” Cho murmured, glaring at Isobel, whom she felt had influenced her cousin to speak badly about the hero of the wizarding world.

Isobel glared back.

“And now,” Dumbledore declared, “before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!”

Penelope swore quietly.

“We have a school song?” Su asked.

“Not if we could help it,” Penelope muttered.

Dumbledore flicked his wand and the lyrics materialised in mid-air. He commanded that everyone pick their favourite tune and set off. What followed was a painful cacophony that Su covered her ears to avoid.

Many of her fellow Ravenclaws sang quickly and unenthusiastically. Everyone finished the song at different times, until only the Weasley twins were still singing the song to the tune of a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and, when they had finished, was one of those who clapped the loudest.

Su clapped lightly too, mostly happy that it was over. Privately she was puzzling over the existence of the school song, not recalling such a thing ever existing. She already knew that there were details of Hogwarts and the Wizarding world in general that Rowling had skipped or glossed over for lack of time, importance, or imagination.

Just the existence of her family, who had never been mentioned in the books at all, was proof that the world that Su now occupied was much more detailed and fully realised than anything that JK Rowling might have made up once upon a time.

Finally, Dumbledore dismissed them all to bed. Su watched Harry and Neville following Percy Weasley out of the hall and hoped that the class schedules would allow them to continue spending time together and to remain friends.

She herself followed Cho and Penelope up a different flight of stairs to Ravenclaw tower. As they climbed the tower, feeling more and more tired as the stairs continued on and on, Su thought about Percy Weasley and why he wasn’t a Slytherin. He’d always seemed spectacularly ambitious to her… but then she remembered the Weasley’s strong prejudice against everything green and silver and proud Gryffindor history.

She imagined, as she climbed, a little Percy Weasley, as green-faced as his brother Ron, listening to the Sorting Hat tell him well he’d do in Slytherin, but begging the Hat to be put into Gryffindor. _Not Slytherin, anything but Slytherin_.

The house rivalry thing was really very sad, she thought. Uncle Nate was a proud Slytherin, but sometimes he spoke of his house and he sighed.

They arrived at the bronze eagle statue and Penelope answered the riddle (“Why is a raven like a writing desk?” – “Both start with an ‘r’ sound.” – “You’re not wrong.”) and the Ravenclaws entered the dormitory.

“First years, your dorms are over here,” Penelope pointed out a corridor shooting off from the Common Room. “Boys, yours are on the left, down those stairs over there. Girls, yours are on the right, up these stairs here. Your trunks should already be at the foot of your beds, but if you want to switch beds you can discuss that with your roommates as well.”

She led the girls up the stairs and pointed at the two doors opposite each other.

“This room is your dorm room. There’s only one this year because there are only six of you. This blue door is your bathroom, which all of you shall share,” she pushed open the bathroom door so that they could see a line of sinks and a few curtained off sections. “There are separate baths, so you don’t have to fight in the mornings, but there’s not really a lot of privacy for a long, hot soak if that’s what you’re used to.”

Penelope turned around and eyed the new Ravenclaws, her gaze lingering on the morose-looking Isobel and the sulky Padma Patil in particular.

“Some of you may not be entirely happy with your Sorting,” she said slowly, sighing a little. “I can only tell you that you are not the first to feel this way, but that the Sorting Hat placed you here, with us, for a reason. I hope that you will find your home here in Ravenclaw, and that you know that the colour of your scarf should not change your relationships with your friends or family. While you may take pride in your house, it shouldn’t define your entire identity, either.”

None of the girls said anything for a moment, but Su caught Penelope’s eye and smiled at her, nodding gratefully. Penelope smiled back.

“You’ll get your class schedules in the morning,” Penelope said. “I’ll let you settle in now. Remember, if any of you have any questions, then you can talk to either myself, Robert Hilliard, or any of the other prefects from other houses.”

Su followed the rest of the girls into the dorm, where six four-poster beds were all lined up, three on either side, and at the end of the wall was a large arched window, as tall as Hagrid. She couldn’t see the view, late as it was, but imagined the sun would stream in and light the whole room up in the morning.

The girls briefly reintroduced themselves and Su acquainted herself with her housemates – Isobel, of course, and Padma Patil, as well as Lisa Turpin, Mandy Brocklehurst, and Sally-Anne Perks.

They didn’t speak much after that, having had a long day. Su found her trunk at the end of the bed closest to the window, with Padma Patil to one side and Isobel across from her. She smiled at the other girls as she quickly took out her pyjamas and prepared herself for bed.

Within moments of lying down, she had fallen asleep.

* * *

Harry squirmed. Neville turned pale. Ron looked supremely annoyed.

It was the whispering, mostly, that really got to them.

“There, look.”

“Where?”

“Next to the chubby kid with the toad.”

“The redhead?”

“No, idiot. The other one.”

“Wearing the glasses?”

“Did you see his face?”

“Did you see his _scar_?”

It was awful. People had been whispering since the moment he left his dormitory with Neville and Ron. People lined up outside classrooms, standing on tiptoe to get a look at him, or doubled back to pass him in the corridors again, staring.

Harry wished they wouldn’t, because he was trying to concentrate on finding his way to class.

There were hundreds of stairways in Hogwarts; wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some with a vanishing step halfway up; and most of them moved, even if you were standing on them, often swinging out over frightening cavernous spaces.

There were doors that wouldn’t open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, or twisted the knobs just so. There were doors that weren’t really doors, only walls pretending to be doors – and there were doors that pretended to be walls.

The portraits moved, visiting each other, and Harry was pretty sure that the many scattered suits of armour did the same, though never when anyone was watching.

On top of all the moving bits and pieces were Peeves – a poltergeist bent on being a pest and wasting student’s time as much as humanly possible – and Argus Filch, who lurked around corners and pounced on any student who stepped even a toe out of line, even by accident.

Harry found himself wishing for a nice, muggle castle, that stayed put and didn’t try to get him lost and wasn’t haunted by ghosts, poltergeists, or evil demons named Mrs Norris.

Beyond the castle’s changing corridors, Peeves the Poltergeist, and Filch and Mrs Norris, were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, Harry found out, than just waving your wand and saying some funny words.

It was only the second day of school and Harry was already exhausted. Most of his classes thus far had only been theory: discussing the origins of magic and the history of wands as a conductor of magic in Western Wizardry, rather than any actual spell-casting.

Because the Gryffindors all had class together, matching up with different houses for different subjects, he saw more of Neville and Ron than he did of Su.

He found that he quite liked the boys as well, however, and also met the other two boys who’d been sorted into Gryffindor with him – Dean Thomas, who was polite and cheerful and even taller than Ron, and short, freckly, and Significantly Irish Seamus Finnegan.

He had yet to be properly introduced to the Gryffindor girls, but was marginally aware of Hermione Granger, if only because she kept getting praises in class and because Ron kept grumbling about her.

Su, on the other hand, was having the time of her life. She spent most of her time with Isobel and Padma, and had met Padma’s twin sister Parvati over lunch on the first day. Penelope was always around if she had any questions, and any time she had classes with the Slytherins, Blaise would sit with her.

Classes were more overwhelming than she thought, especially considering they hadn’t even started any _real_ magic yet. Su had read some of the basics on magical theory before school started, but she still had many questions about the introductory aspects of some of her classes.

History of Magic was easily the most boring class, mostly because Professor Binns had a voice like white noise and only chose the driest topics with the most difficult language. Su had always considered herself smart for her age, but the concepts that Binns talked about, like Goblin Economics and Wand Taxes, always went straight over her head.

Fortunately, the Ravenclaws had History of Magic with the Slytherins, and so Su and Padma always paired up with Blaise and Theo Nott, with Isobel and Daphne nearby. Blaise and Daphne always had some funny piece of trivia to include, or an aside comment made by one of their grandparents on any given topic.

Both Harry and Su liked Charms and Transfiguration best, because those were the classes that Gryffindor had with Ravenclaw and they always sat together. Su immediately believed that Charms would become her favourite class – and not just because Professor Flitwick was her Head of House. She liked the idea of how practical charms could be – though those were not the spells they would start with.

She was already imagining when she would get to put to use Uncle Nate’s copy of _1001 Household Charms_ and _The Pocket Handbook of Undetectable Extension Charms_ that she’d slyly picked up from the library at the Department of Mysteries.

However, she already knew that she wouldn’t get to perform any _really_ complicated Charms until maybe third year, and that the first years would be starting with small things like the levitation charm and the light charm.

Harry’s best subject was Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall. Strict and clever, the professor gave them a stern lecture about the complexity and danger of her subject the moment they sat down in her first class.

Transfiguring her desk into a pig and back had impressed everyone, but all the students were rather disappointed to learn that they were starting small. Turning matches into needles was not anyone’s idea of grand magic.

By the end of the lesson, only Harry and Hermione had made any differences to their matches. After Su had discussed the theory with him, Harry had managed to turn his match silver, though it still caught fire when struck against the table. Hermione’s had become both silver and pointy, though it also still lit up when struck.

Both had received two points apiece from McGonagall, accompanied by a rare proud smile.

Harry had to comfort Su on their way out of class.

“It’s okay, Su,” he said. “Maybe my wand’s just good for transfiguration, like my dad’s.”

“Mine’s _‘unforgiving’_ , remember?” said Su. “I wasn’t doing it right.”

“We- we’re still just learning,” Neville offered. “We’ll get it next time.”

“Yeah,” Ron nodded. “Just practice!”

None of the boys understood Su’s conflict. Before Hogwarts – before everything – she’d been a very good student. The best in her class. She always received the best grades in almost every subject, from Math to English to Science. To suddenly find herself failing – and in her young heart, performing averagely felt like a failure – Su’s entire sense of self, her whole identity as a ‘good student’ was left on shaky ground.

Isobel, whose sure identity as a Slytherin had been upended by her Ravenclaw sorting, understood a little better.

“Study hard,” she said, putting a hand on Su’s shoulder. “Get it next time.”

Isobel’s expression was neither sympathetic nor encouraging, only calm and serious. However, this confident challenge managed to soothe Su’s nerves better than anything else, and she relaxed slightly, nodding in agreement.

Harry couldn’t help but feel slightly left out as Isobel led Su away from him and towards the Ravenclaws’ next class – double Potions with the Hufflepuffs – while he, Neville, and Ron had Defence Against the Dark Arts in the opposite direction.

“You all right, Harry?” Neville asked.

“Hmmm?” Harry turned back to his other friends, blinking quickly. “Yeah, fine.”

“If you say so,” Ron shrugged, mild. “C’mon, let’s go. We don’t want to miss the stairs.”

Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Quirrell turned out to be rather disappointing. The classroom smelled strongly of garlic, probably to ward off vampires, Ron guessed, and was shrouded in darkness thanks to the thick, dusty curtains draped over the windows.

Dean Thomas asked Quirrell about his turban and was told that it had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome pack of inferi. However, when Seamus eagerly asked for details about the battle with the inferi and the African prince, Quirrell stuttered more than usual and changed the subject, turning back to the blackboard to continue the lesson.

Harry stared hard at the back of Quirrell’s head, waiting for him to say – or stutter – something interesting. Moments later, he clutched his forehead and looked away, biting his lip against the pain in his scar.

Luckily he was sitting in the back of the class, so not many people noticed this. Only his friends sitting nearby asked about it.

“What’s wrong?” Draco hissed in concern, looking paler than usual.

“Do you need to go to the Hospital Wing?” Ron asked.

“No one asked _you_ , Weasley,” Draco sneered.

“Shut up, Malfoy!”

“Shhh!” Hermione Granger whipped around and glared at the four of them, even Neville, who’d been quiet the whole time. “I’m trying to listen.”

She turned back around, diligently taking notes as Quirrell droned on about the history and development of Defence Against the Dark Arts, more or less directly reading from the textbook in his hands.

“Stupid mudblood,” Draco muttered.

“HEY!” Ron yelled, preparing to throw a punch at Draco. He was held back by Neville and Harry, who quickly clamped their hands over his mouth and wrestled him down into his chair.

“S-s-something the m-m-matter, P-p-p-p-potter?” Professor Quirrell stuttered, looking up at the boys in the back row.

“Just a spider, Professor,” Harry lied quickly. “We already killed it. We’re fine.”

The professor nodded and returned to his lesson. The boys were quiet for the rest of the period, but both Draco and Ron were gloomier than usual afterwards.

“What was that about?” Harry asked as they left the class, dragging Ron and Neville into an empty corridor. “Why’d you get so mad, all of a sudden?”

“You can’t be friends with him,” said Ron.

“Just because you don’t like him—”

“He called Hermione a mudblood, Harry,” Ron interrupted. “I don’t like her, but I would never use that word. It’s a dirty word. It’s– It’s– it’s like a curse, but without power, but it’s still terrible.”

“What does it mean?” Harry frowned.

“It’s because she’s muggleborn,” Neville explained quietly. “Malfoy and his family – a lot of families, actually – they believe in blood purity. They believe that muggleborns have dirty blood, that they’re not ‘proper wizards’.”

Harry who had been called all kinds of names growing up by his family, by his teachers, by his classmates – Harry with his green, green eyes and dark skin and wild hair – Harry who didn’t fit in amongst the white and manicured neighbourhood around Privet Drive and the Dursleys, suddenly understood.

“Oh,” he said. _Oh,_ he thought, and he felt it in his bones. Oh.

Harry thought about it a lot, for the rest of the day. Neville and Ron had explained to him a bit more about what many wizards did and didn’t consider as pureblood. He learned that he, himself, would be considered half-blood. He thought about muggles, about the life he lived with them, and how his Uncle and Aunt treated him, but also about the other people he’d encountered in his life.

At lunchtime, he asked Su about it.

“Are you a pureblood?” He asked, while sitting with her and her Ravenclaw friends at the end of the table, as far away from the staring eyes as possible.

All three girls – Su and her new friends Padma and Isobel – choked on their food.

“God, Harry,” Su gasped, taking a big gulp of water. “You don’t just _ask_ people that.”

She’d learned that from Nate and Bea, when they’d had long family discussions about the wizarding world and how she would fit into it now that they’d adopted her. She’d learned so much more than she thought was possible about this world, and there was still so much that she didn’t understand.

But she did, at least, understand some basic wizarding manners.

“Your muggle upbringing really stands out,” Isobel sneered, and Su glared at her.

“He’s learning,” she said defensively. She stood up and tugged on Harry’s arm. “Harry, come with me and I’ll explain it to you.”

They went to the library without finishing their lunch, leaving Padma and Isobel behind. Isobel narrowed her eyes as they left.

“She never answered the question,” she noticed.

“Don’t be such a purist,” said Padma. “Pass me the potatoes.”

In the library, Su looked at Harry and briefly explained to him a little bit about why blood purity was such a sensitive topic, especially in the wake of Lord Voldemort and his violent and genocidal methods.

“You-Know-Who may be gone for now,” she said. “But a lot of people still believe in his principles.”

“For now?” Harry repeated.

“You know what I mean,” Su coughed, looking awkward.

“I don’t, actually.”

“Well, there were Dark Lords before You-Know-Who and there will be more after him. And a lot of You-Know-Who’s followers are still around.”

Harry looked sceptical, but didn’t push the subject.

On her way to the next class, Su reflected on her first lesson with Snape earlier that morning. In a classroom of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, without the tensions between Slytherins and Gryffindors, Snape hadn’t been as aggressively unpleasant as she’d read about in the books. However, he’d still been exceedingly cold and cutting in his remarks.

Su had sat with Isobel and Padma and listened carefully to Snape’s instructions on how to make a cure for boils. It was not a potion that she’d made before with Uncle Nate, but it wasn’t extremely difficult either. He’d written the instructions on the board, but hadn’t given any specific guidance.

By the end of the class, only she had made a perfect potion, and that was only because of her experience making potions with Uncle Nate in the last year. Isobel, Padma, and Michael Corner had also created ‘passable’ potions by following the textbook to the letter, but most of their classmates had not done so well.

Snape berated them all as arrogant and incompetent, but when leaving the classroom, most students lamented that they just didn’t understand the instructions. What was the difference between grinding and mincing? How does an extra half-stir widdershins affect the potion really? Does it really matter if their knife is silver or steel as long as it cuts the ingredients?

Su tried to explain it to Corner and Boot when they asked her how her potion turned out so well, describing a few potion-making techniques she’d picked up from her Uncle whilst helping him out at home.

“Must be nice to have an advantage,” Ernie Macmillan sneered. “All you Ancient and Noble Families are the same, looking down on us.”

“That’s not true,” Padma protested.

“You’re a Patil,” said Macmillan. “One of the oldest wizarding families in India.”

“And you’re a Macmillan,” said Isobel. “It’s not an Ancient house, but it is a Noble one. You’re the same as us. You should know better.”

Macmillan looked affronted, but Justin Finch-Fletchley put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head, effectively cooling Macmillan’s temper.

“I was only trying to help,” Su said quietly. Her hand curled around the fake snitch in her pocket, the decorative ridges pressing into her skin. 

Macmillan’s expression shifted into one of embarrassment and guilt.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I just– I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t—” Isobel began to scold him but was stopped by Su.

“It’s okay,” she said. “I didn’t mean to talk down to you. If you have any questions about potions, you can ask me later, but I won’t just dump it on you like that.”

She’d then left on her own, saying she’d meet Isobel and Padma at the Great Hall for lunch, before finding an empty broom closet and bringing out her snitch.

Taking deep breaths, she concentrated as she used magic to let the snitch fly in small circles over her hand, and then in figure-eights. When she’d calmed down she went to lunch.

That’s when she’d met Harry and had that sticky conversation about blood purity.

She didn’t have a proper answer to that question. Are you a pureblood? The answer was that she wasn’t anything. Not pureblood or half-blood or even really a muggleborn witch. She was everything that the Ancient and Noble Houses were afraid of – a muggle that had stolen magic. An intruder, an imposter, an invader.

A fake.

* * *

The next morning, when the owls swooped into the Great Hall to drop off everyone’s mail, Harry received an invitation to Hagrid’s later that afternoon for tea. He happily agreed, wondering if Su, Neville and Ron would like to come too. They were quickly becoming his closest friends at Hogwarts, though he got along well with the other Gryffindor boys as well.

He mentioned the invite to Su, who agreed to meet him outside the castle at tea-time, but then checked her class schedule and frowned.

“I’ve got double Defence,” she said. “Which means _you’ve_ got double Potions with the Slytherins. Be careful, Harry. Professor Snape doesn’t like Gryffindors and plays favourites with the Slytherins. Don’t be surprised if he singles you out, either.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a jerk!” she replied instantly, and then gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. “I didn’t say that!”

“Alright,” Harry chuckled. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t get nervous, Neville,” Su turned to the other boy. “You’re good at Herbology, so that’ll help you in Potions. Just go at your own pace, don’t let Snape scare you or rush you.”

“He’s not the bogeyman, Li,” Ron said from over Harry’s shoulder.

“No, but he’s really mean.”

Slightly anxious after Su’s serious warnings, Harry, Neville, and Ron made their way down to the dungeons, carefully counting their twists and turns so as not to miss their classroom. Hogwarts was tricky to navigate on the best of days, but going down into the dungeons made the castle more labyrinth-like than ever.

The Slytherins were already entering the classroom by the time the three boys arrived, and they quickly joined the end of the line and followed Zabini and Nott into the room. Zabini saw them and nodded aloofly before walking inside.

“Bit of an arrogant git, isn’t he?” Ron muttered.

“He doesn’t seem to like most people,” said Harry. “Except Su.”

“He’s a Zabini,” said Neville. “They’re old blood, as old as the Malfoys. And his father was a Drašković, they’re even older, one of the first dragon-taming families in the world. My Gran says, those old families, they’re proud all the way down to their bones.”

Ron hummed in agreement.

They stopped talking when they entered the classroom, quickly finding their seats and setting up their parchments and cauldrons. Soon afterwards, Snape billowed in, his cloak swooping like a shadow around him.

He started class by taking the roll call and paused at Harry’s name.

“Ah, yes,” he said softly, lips curling up in a sneer. “Harry Potter. Our. New. _Celebrity._ ” The last word came out as a hiss, like it was dirty and disgusting.

 _Don’t be surprised if he singles you out,_ Su’s voice echoed in Harry’s head. _Because he’s a jerk._

Harry bit his lip and didn’t say anything.

Snape looked away.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” he began, launching into a short speech about the glories and powers of potions and how most of his students were fools and dunderheads.

“Potter!” Snape called suddenly. “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

Harry tried to remember, but he didn’t think that was covered in the first few chapters of the textbook he’d studied. In front of him, Hermione Granger’s hand had shot into the air as she sat up very, very straight.

“I don’t know, sir,” he admitted.

Snape’s expression became even more disdainful.

“Clearly,” he said, “fame isn’t everything.”

Harry felt that was rather unfair. He wasn’t famous on purpose, in fact, his celebrity status made him extremely uncomfortable. Snape picking on him like this wasn’t fun, but even the ordinary staring of other students made him feel like a zoo animal on display, as trapped as that snake that he’d spoken to a few months ago.

“Let’s try again, Potter,” said Snape. “Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

This one Harry knew. It had been in Su’s book of potion ingredients and their uses. Hermione’s hand was stretched as high as it would go without her leaving her seat.

“In the stomach of a goat, sir,” he said. Snape’s eyebrows flew up his forehead, though he seemed no less antagonistic. “It’s a stone formed by the digestive system, and it’s an antidote for most poisons, sir.”

He wondered if that second ‘sir’ had been too much.

Snape scowled.

“What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

Thank heavens for Neville and his love of Herbology. He’d described several plants to Harry just a few nights ago, including this one.

“They’re the same plant, sir,” Harry said, feeling rather pleased with himself. “It’s also used in a lot of medicinal potions – mostly poisons, but also some antidotes.

Beside him, Neville grinned.

Snape was silent for a moment, regarding Harry with hard black eyes. Harry had no idea what his professor was thinking, but eventually, Snape looked away.

“For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death – used on an ancient princess in times forgotten, it has given rise to the muggle fairy tales ‘Briar Rose’ and ‘Snow White’. The true story has been lost to time. You are correct about monkshood and wolfsbane. It is also known as aconite. As for the bezoar, it is a simple and easy cure for most poisons. Competent or paranoid wizards are known to carry at least one on their person at all times.”

To demonstrate, he reached inside his robes and brought out a small dark ball, displaying it for a moment before putting it away again.

Harry wondered if this made Snape competent, or paranoid.

“Well?” Snape glared at the class. “Why aren’t you all writing that down?”

There was a sudden fluster of students rummaging for quills and parchment. After a brief lecture about the instructions on the board, they got into pairs and set about making the cure for boils.

Harry read the instructions very carefully, trying to remember all of the tips and tricks of potion-making that Su had told him before. He couldn’t remember everything, but he was very careful about how he treated his ingredients. The Dursleys had forced him to cook for them as soon as he was tall enough to reach the stove, so the neatness of his slicing and dicing was at a higher level than some of his classmates’.

Snape meanwhile, stalked around the room, sneering at everybody except for Draco, whom he seemed to like. The Gryffindors, in particular, were victim to his harsh criticism, but even Goyle was scolded for not holding his knife properly, and Greengrass for her uneven slicing of horned slugs.

More often than not, Snape’s powerful glare was directed towards the table that Harry was sharing with Neville and Ron. Neville, who was easily flustered, almost made the grave mistake of adding the porcupine quills before taking his potion off the heat. He was saved by Zabini, who kicked his ankle while walking past.

The quills landed on the floor.

“Take it off the fire,” Zabini hissed. “Or your cauldron will explode!”

Shaken, Neville did as he was told.

Across the room, Snape scowled.

“Three points from Gryffindor, for distracting the class, Longbottom!”

Harry grit his teeth at how unfair Snape was being – it was clearly Zabini that had kicked Neville first, albeit with good – ish? – intentions. Su had been right about Snape though. He was a jerk.

Nervously, Neville, Harry, and Ron completed their potions at a slower pace than before. Most of the Slytherins – whom Harry had noticed received helpful, if sharp, pointers from Snape – produced passable potions. Zabini and Draco both made perfect potions, receiving five points apiece for Slytherin.

Hermione Granger had also made a very good potion, but Snape just sneered at her and walked past her table without saying a word. When he came to Harry’s table, he examined the three potions with critical eyes, pointing out everything wrong with them from the colour, to the scent, to the texture, even though Harry knew, from what Snape had said to the rest of the class, that the potions he, Neville, and Ron had made were at least acceptable.

“You’ll learn, Potter,” Snape said, glaring at Harry, “that in my class I will not tolerate attitudes of superiority or arrogance, nor will I accept _subpar_ ” – here he glanced pointedly at Harry’s cauldron – “potions. Mine is not a class in which you can goof off, or gossip with your friends, understood?”

Harry bit his tongue, hands curling into fists beneath the long sleeves of his robes.

“Is. That. Understood?”

“Yes,” said Harry, through gritted teeth. “Understood, sir.”

Leaving the classroom was an immense relief.

Later, when the boys caught up with Su on their way to Hagrid’s, they recounted the ordeal in great detail, making several pointed remarks about Snape, the Slytherins, the difficulty of the class, and Zabini.

“I know he’s your friend, Li,” said Ron. “But he’s a bloody menace.”

“Some might say the same of you, Weasley,” Su retorted mildly.

She had already noticed that Blaise treated most people lukewarmly at best, aside from herself, Daphne Greengrass, and Theo Nott. She did not know what she’d done to gain a spot on his short list of friends, but she liked being there.

The walk down to Hagrid’s hut was all downhill from the castle to the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and the four first-years made good time. They were greeted at the door by Hagrid’s large and slobbery dog – Fang – and then crowded into the one-roomed house. It fit them all fairly easily, considering that the whole place was Hagrid-sized, but Su thought it was rather unreasonable that such a large man should live in such small and shabby quarters.

 _Dumbledore should give him a raise_ , she thought. _Hasn’t he been here for fifty years already?_

“Make yerselves at home,” said Hagrid. They found themselves squeezed onto a wooden bench on one side of Hagrid’s table, Fang flopped heavily over their feet, with a plate of what might have been scones in front of them.

“Hagrid, you remember Su?”

“From Ollivander’s, eh?”

“It’s nice to see you again, Hagrid,” Su smiled.

“These are my new friends, Neville Longbottom and Ron Weasley.”

“I knew both yer parents when they were in school,” Hagrid beamed at the boys. “Nice kids, all of them. Always happy to lend a hand.” He squinted at Ron.

“Yer brothers though… yer not like the twins are yeh?”

“Er, I’m more like Charlie, I think,” Ron scratched his nose, shifting uncomfortably. Hagrid nodded happily, but Su noticed that Ron seemed to shrink in on himself for a few minutes after that.

She remembered in the books that he hated to be compared to his many accomplished brothers, feeling as though he lived in their shadows.

The four of them happily chatted with Hagrid over tea, telling him all about their first lessons of the year, their run-ins with Peeves, and the adventures they had between classes just trying to move around the castle without hurting themselves or being late.

They were all delighted to hear Hagrid refer to Filch as ‘that old git’.

“As fer that cat, Mrs Norris, I’d like ter introduce her ter Fang sometime. D’yeh know she follows me around every time I go up ter the school? Can’t get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it. Thinks I’m suspicious,” Hagrid scoffed.

Harry, Neville, and Ron told Hagrid about their lesson with Snape.

“He seems to really hate me,” said Harry.

“Rubbish!” Hagrid waved a hand, though his expression was shifty. “Why should he? Snape’s jus’ hard ter please.”

Su pursed her lips, knowing that Snape hated Harry because he looked like his father.

 _It’s not an excuse_ , she thought. _Harry’s not his father, he shouldn’t be punished for another person’s grudges from before he was even born._

While Neville and Hagrid began to discuss the pests that attacked some of the plants in Professor Sprout’s greenhouses, Harry picked the paper that was lying next to the teapot. It was today’s copy of _The Daily Prophet_.

> **GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST**
> 
> Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on the 31st of July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.
> 
> Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had, in fact, been emptied earlier that same day.
> 
> “But we’re not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what’s good for you,” said the Gringotts spokes-goblin in this afternoon’s interview.

Harry remembered Ron telling him about someone trying to rob Gringotts before, but Ron hadn’t mentioned the date, then.

“Hagrid!” Harry tugged the man’s sleeve to catch his attention. “That Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might’ve been happening while we were there!”

Hagrid deliberately avoided Harry’s eyes, and with very little subtlety offered him a rock cake and changed the subject to their sortings – in particular, Harry’s continued friendship with Su, despite being in different houses.

“O’course it’s not unheard of,” he chortled. “But firs’ years tend to stick to their own, just while they’re getting used to the school. Dumbledore’s so proud of you.”

Su’s eyebrows twitched, dipping into a frown that she immediately wiped away. She felt that Dumbledore was a little too interested in Harry, and by extension, herself. Sometimes, during lunch or dinner, she felt his heavy, twinkling gaze on the back of her neck. Very rarely would she meet his eyes, but every time it gave her a headache. She didn’t like being under such heavy scrutiny.

Beside her, Harry was staring thoughtfully at the article in his hands, probably occupied by the mysterious package – the Philosopher’s Stone – that he and Hagrid had taken out of Gringotts the day it was broken into.

After they left Hagrid’s hut, he was still carrying the paper.

“Stop thinking so much, Harry,” Su took the paper from his hand. “It’s not your problem.”

“What’s not his problem?” Ron asked.

“The break-in at Gringotts,” said Harry. “I think I was there when it happened. Or just before it happened, anyway.”

“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed, eyes wide.

“It has nothing to do with you,” Su said primly. “Now let’s go to dinner.”

“How do you know?” Neville asked Harry, ignoring Su.

“Hagrid took me to this vault, way, way down in the caverns, and there was nothing in it except for this little package, and he took it out and then we kept shopping – but that was the day of the break-in. The article says the vault was emptied earlier that day – don’t you see? It was me and Hagrid that emptied it!”

“Hagrid and I,” Ron corrected automatically, probably imitating his mum.

“Hagrid and me,” Su corrected his correction.

“I wonder where it is now?” Harry murmured.

Su rolled her eyes and didn’t say anything. Boys.

* * *

Harry was so excited that he could hardly sit still. Su, discussing her charms homework with Padma across from him, rolled her eyes.

“Relax,” she said.

“Relax?” Ron exclaimed. “We’ve got our first flying lessons today and you want us to relax? This is the moment I’ve been waiting for, Li! Malfoy’s been bragging about his flying for _weeks_ but I’ll show him!”

“What’s your deal with Malfoy, anyway, Weasley?” Padma asked. Now that the first years had settled into Hogwarts for a few weeks they’d begun to learn each other’s names and personalities a little better. Naturally, a vitriolic rivalry like Ron and Malfoy’s was well-known to the majority of their classmates.

Harry didn’t _hate_ Draco, but the Slytherin boy was starting to grate on his nerves, especially with all his snide remarks about Ron and Neville.

“He’s a stuck-up git,” said Ron. “He thinks he’s better than everyone else. Did you hear him yesterday? Saying how he’d be on the Quidditch team right now if first years were allowed? Ridiculous.”

Su had, actually, heard Malfoy’s firsthand accounts of his flying prowess. She’d sat with the Slytherins the other day to get Blaise’s help on a History of Magic essay and was subsequently present when Malfoy regaled his friends with boastful tales that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping muggles in helicopters.

Those stories gave Su the impression that Malfoy had never seen a helicopter in his life.

Malfoy wasn’t the only one; Seamus Finnegan, Terry Boot, Michael Corner, and – ironically – Ron himself all had their own stories of daring flying adventures.

Neville, however, had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Su felt that she’d had good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground – and those were just the ones that Harry and Ron hadn’t been able to prevent. The Gryffindor boys had become quite familiar with Madam Pomfrey and the Hospital Wing in the last few weeks.

“Where is Neville, by the way?” Su asked, looking around. She hadn’t paid much attention to the boys when they’d sat down for breakfast at the Ravenclaw table with her because this Charms essay was due later that morning. Harry, Neville, and Ron were an almost inseparable trio these last few weeks, but Neville wasn’t with them now.

“He’s at the Gryffindor table with Granger,” Ron scoffed. His dislike of Hermione was almost as well-known as his rivalry with Malfoy. “They’re trying to study for our Flying Lesson. As if you could learn to fly from a book.”

Su looked over and immediately spotted Neville and Hermione huddled around a small pile of books over on the Gryffindor table. Their reading was interrupted by the timely arrival of the mail, owls swooping down and dropping packages on unsuspecting students. The surlier owls dropped them on students’ heads or in their porridge, while the nicer ones landed smoothly by their recipients’ elbows.

Uncle Nate’s owl, Xun[1], appeared by Su’s side, dropping a small package and a letter into her lap. Su poured the owl a small dish of water and a plate of owl treats already on the table. Xun purred happily in her owlish way.

“Hello, Xun,” Harry grinned, stroking the owl’s head. He and Xun had gotten to know each other over the summer when he and Su had been exchanging letters. At first, he’d been afraid that his aunt and uncle would freak out, but he’d asked Su about it, and she had told him that Xun’s collar held muggle-repellent charm that stopped muggles from noticing her. She’d sent one for Hedwig the next week.

“What’s in the box, Li?” Ron asked.

“Erm, girl stuff,” Su coughed, avoiding eye contact. The package was labelled ‘ _for emergencies only’,_ and Nate and Bea’s letter explained why. Because of Su’s frequent panic attacks and a once-off conversation about muggle medicine – Su had a headache once and asked for ibuprofen – Nathan had experimented with creating small doses of Calming Draught in capsule form, which he called Calming Pills.

 _Literally Chill Pills_ , Su thought to herself, giggling a little at her own joke.

Uncle Nate very sternly instructed that she was to keep the pills in her pocket and use them _only_ in very extenuating circumstances – such as feeling a panic attack coming on in a very public place without a quiet space to calm down in.

Su felt that the pills were a very clever idea and put them in her pocket immediately. The rest of the letter was Nate and Bea telling her a little about how their work was going – though in very vague terms for Aunt Bea since Unspeakable business was largely classified – and how much they missed her.

While Su was reading her letter Neville had left the Gryffindor table and walked over to join his friends at the Ravenclaw table. In his hand, he held a shiny glass marble filled with white smoke. 

“What’ve you got there, Nev?” Harry asked.

“It’s a Remembrall,” Neville explained, slightly glum. “Gran knows I forget things, and this is supposed to tell you if there’s something you’ve forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this, and if the smoke turns red—” the smoke in the marble immediately turned bright scarlet, mimicked quickly by Neville’s face.

“If it turns red, it means you’ve forgotten something,” Isobel finished for him.

Su frowned at the Remembrall, tucking her letter inside her robes and absent-mindedly stroking Xun’s feathery head.

“I don’t know how useful that is, though,” she said. “Everyone’s forgotten something at one point or another. It’s not like it tells you what you’ve forgotten.”

“I suppose,” Neville sighed. “But it’s a gift from my gran – she doesn’t buy me anything if she can help it. Even my wand is my dad’s old one.”

Su’s frown deepened.

“But the wand chooses the wizard. How can you be sure that your dad’s wand is the right wand for you? What if the reason you’re having so many magical accidents is that your wand doesn’t like you?”

Neville paled.

“Oi! My wand used to be Charlie’s and it works just fine for me!” Ron interrupted.

Padma rolled her eyes.

“Are you sure about that Weasley?” she asked. “I remember an incident with the buttons in Transfiguration just yesterday.”

Ron turned bright red.

“Oh, shut it, Patil,” he said.

“Both of you, stop fighting.” Su pulled Padma back by her shoulder and put her hand on Ron’s face to push him back into his seat. Both of them looked disgruntled with her, but otherwise stopped bickering.

“Don’t worry about it too much, Neville,” Su said. “I’m sure I was just overthinking. There isn’t just one wand for every wizard, and for the most part, there isn’t just one wizard for every wand. Maybe yours settle down after a while. If not, it’s not difficult to buy a new one.”

“You haven’t met my gran,” Neville groaned.

“Who says your gran has to know?” Su waggled her eyebrows.

Neville chuckled nervously and then changed the subject by asking for Su’s help on his Charms essay. Su let him do so, but privately resolved to do more research into wands and wand lore for Neville.

At the end of the day, Ron and Harry excitedly dragged Neville and Su towards the Quidditch Pitch for their first flying lesson. Most of the Slytherins and some scattered Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors were already there. Nearby, lying in neat rows on the ground, were the broomsticks.

Soon afterwards Madam Hooch arrived, and glared at the stragglers, who hurried to line up next to their brooms. Su noticed that for the most part, the houses clumped together, but there were a few people like herself mixing in with other houses.

When everyone was in place, Madam Hooch briefly introduced herself and explained what they would be learning today:

“Familiarity with a broom is important, similarly to wands, each broom has a different shape and personality, but they are less prone to… tantrums,” she eyed Finnegan, who had blown up a goblet last night at dinner, trying to turn water into rum of all things.

“First, we will learn to mount.” She stood next to her own broom, which looked significantly newer and in better repair than all the brooms the first-years had.

“Hold your wand hand over your broom and say ‘up’!”

“UP!” everyone shouted.

Harry’s broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did.

Hermione Granger’s had simply rolled over on the ground. Su’s had hopped a little, but fallen back into place. Neville’s hadn’t moved at all. Perhaps brooms could tell when you were afraid; Neville clearly wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Su got her broom on the third try, and she and Harry both tried to assure Neville that riding a broom was easy and very safe, so long as he didn’t try to show off.

Neville told them that he was in no danger of showing off.

Still, soon enough, his broom had leapt into his hand, though he still looked apprehensive.

Madam Hooch showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows to correct their grips. Ron and Neville snickered when she told Malfoy that he’d been doing it wrong for years.

“Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard,” said Madam Hooch. “Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forwards lightly. On my whistle, remember. Three, two—”

Neville, nervous and jumpy and anxious about being left on the ground, pushed off on two. For a moment he was okay, and the broom just hovered, his feet dangling a few inches off the ground. Then the broom shot up like a cork out of a bottle, and he was getting higher and higher.

“Neville!” Su shouted, alarmed. “Neville, hold on!”

Neville panicked, clinging tight to the broom while it zigzagged further and further away from the ground.

“Longbottom, lean forward and come down to the ground!” Madam Hooch shouted.

Eyes closed, Neville tilted forward, and the broom rushed downwards. All of the first years screeched and scattered as Neville dove towards them.

“Neville let go!” Harry shouted.

Neville did as he was told, tumbling off the broom and rolling several times over the grass while his broom crashed into the castle wall and collapsed on the ground. Harry, Ron, and Su ran over to their friend, with Madam Hooch close behind them.

“Neville are you okay?”

“Not really,” he groaned.

“Out of my way,” Madam Hooch pushed them aside and studied Neville carefully, casting a few diagnostic spells that Su recognised from working with Pearl. “No broken bones, just some bruising. Are you good to fly again, Longbottom?”

“Can I sit this one out, Professor?”

Madam Hooch sighed.

“Only today, Longbottom, but it’s in your best interest to conquer your fear sooner or later. Broom-handling is one of the basics of wizarding life.”

“I’ll sit out with you, Nev,” said Ron.

“Mr Weasley–” Madam Hooch began to protest.

“It’s okay, Madam Hooch, Charlie’s taught me everything he knows,” Ron smiled wryly. “We’ll join in next lesson.”

“That’s very kind of you Mr Weasley, but there’s no need,” said Madam Hooch. “After hovering I will allow you students to perform more advanced manoeuvres in small groups. Mr Longbottom will not be lacking in company.”

After a little more fussing, the four of them went back to the line-up of first years with their brooms. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Bulstrode were all snickering, but they quickly smartened up when Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

This time there were no incidents, and Su was able to hover a few feet off the ground on her broom. Flying was a lot more precarious than she’d thought just from reading the books. The broom itself was narrow, though there were some cushioning charms where she was ‘seated’, and it was more sensitive to direction than she’d thought. Su, like many of her classmates, had trouble even hovering stably, and though Neville’s experience had been extreme, it was not out of the ordinary.

Only those who had clearly flown before were able to fly stably at first – Malfoy, Ron, Blaise, the Patil twins, and a few others from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff that Su didn’t know the names of. Eventually, however, the whole class – aside from Neville – were able to hover comfortably, after which Madam Hooch guided them in a few slightly more complex flying patterns.

Su was pleased to find that, while not a natural flyer like Harry clearly was, she was able to fly quite smoothly after a while. She’d never be a Quidditch player, but she wouldn’t mind flying for leisure.

Harry, of course, took to flying like a fish to water, and by the end of the lesson was zooming around with Malfoy and Ron, the three of them whooping for joy as they performed loop-de-loops and barrel rolls.

For the end of their first lesson, Madam Hooch proposed a light game of catch, bringing out a red ball around the size of a tennis ball.

“For those of you who may wish to join their house Quidditch teams, this exercise will be good practice for your hand-eye-broom coordination abilities,” she said.

“All of you shall hover a few metres over the field, and, one at a time, attempt to catch the ball when I throw it. For each person to catch the ball, I shall award two house points. If you fail to catch the ball, simply move to the end of the line. Those who do not wish to participate may watch on the ground, with Longbottom.”

Following her instructions, a small handful of students including Isobel, Padma, Hermione, Pansy Parkinson and a few others Su didn’t know, flew down to sit on the grass with Neville. Su noticed that Hermione sat down and began speaking happily with Neville, probably encouraging him to join in with more confidence during their next flying lesson.

Su hesitated a moment, wondering if she should join them, but decided there was no harm in trying, at least.

Harry flew up beside her, his whole face glowing with joy, his teeth white against his dark skin and his hair in chaotic disarray from the wind.

“Isn’t this just the best part about being a wizard?” he asked.

Su smiled softly.

“It’s something,” she said. She didn’t personally have the same enthusiasm for flying now that she knew she had no natural talent for it, but there certainly was something incredibly freeing about it.

For Harry, however, flying felt like some kind of homecoming. He’d never felt so happy in his life. This was the single most joyous activity he could possibly imagine.

All the first years lined up and watched as Madam Hooch sent the red ball flying again and again, retrieving it each time with a simple: “ _Accio_ ball!”

Unsurprisingly, most of the first years failed to catch the ball, either because they weren’t flying fast enough, or because their coordination was slightly off. Eleven people missed the ball before Justin Finch-Fletchley surprised everyone by being the first to catch his.

“It’s like flying cricket!” he shouted happily, holding up the ball.

“Well done, Mr Finch-Fletchley,” Madam Hooch beamed. “Two points to Hufflepuff!”

Harry saw Draco muttering something to Crabbe and Goyle, and guessed that it might be something snide about Justin’s muggle heritage. Certainly, there was no cricket in the wizarding world.

After Justin was Ernie McMillan and Anthony Goldstein, both of whom missed the ball. Surprisingly, both Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown caught theirs, earning four points for Gryffindor. After that was Draco’s turn, and he smugly performed a sharp dive in order to catch the ball, only a few feet from the ground.

After Draco were many other failures. For the most part, the girls didn’t mind so much, feeling as though it was just a bit of fun, but most of the boys were more competitive about it, and were gloomy when they missed the ball.

Ron went before Harry did, and his expression when he caught the ball was priceless. He turned around with the ball in hand, looking completely baffled, as if he himself had no idea how he had succeeded.

“Good job, Ron!” Harry shouted. Ron blushed as red as his hair, but shrugged humbly as he handed the red ball back to Madam Hooch.

“Just luck,” he mumbled.

“Pure talent,” Harry told him, clapping him on the shoulder. Ron blushed harder, rubbing the back of his neck, but didn’t argue further.

Then it was Harry’s turn.

“Let’s hope you are your father’s son,” said Madam Hooch, making Harry blink in surprise. Then, with a graceful flick of her wrist, the ball was sent flying. There was a slight lag in Harry’s reaction, stunned by Madam Hooch’s comment about his father, before he regained his wits and dived after the ball.

All he could hear was the whistling of wind in his ears and the cold sting of air on his nose and cheeks. His sight tunnelled on the red ball as he pressed his whole body down on the broom, willing himself faster, faster, he reached out his hand in front of him, snatching the ball out of the air, his toes grazing the ground as he swooped back upwards, fist raised aloft in victory.

He could see his fellow Gryffindors cheering for him, and Su beside them giving him a bright smile and a big thumbs-up.

“You’re a natural at this Harry,” she said as he flew up next to her. “You’re amazing.”

Harry couldn’t help but swell up with pride at her words.

“Your turn, Miss Li,” said Madam Hooch, holding up the ball.

Su glanced anxiously at Harry.

“You’ll be fine,” he said.

Nodding, Su gently manipulated her broom over to Madam Hooch’s side.

“I’m ready,” she said. Harry watched happily as the red ball flew into the air, arching neatly over the grassy field, and Su quickly followed behind. However, as he was watching, he noticed something small and shiny slip out of Su’s pocket.

He recognised it as a gift from Su’s uncle and aunt, a small gold marble. She always had it on her person, often playing with it during class, or just touching her pocket while walking through the castle, making sure it was still there.

It was important to her.

All this information flashed in his mind in a fraction of a second, but his body moved instantly on instinct. He zipped out of the crowd on his broom, hearing a few cries of surprise behind him. He was flying faster than ever, eyes focused on the tiny glint of gold hurtling towards the Astronomy Tower and, more urgently, a thick garden of bushes and brambles at the base of it. If Su’s gold marble fell in there, she might never be able to find it again.

Behind him, he could vaguely hear the cries of his classmates, Madam Hooch, and even Su, but he ignored them all. This was something important to his friend, and that meant it was important to Harry.

Pressing himself closer to his broom, Harry willed himself to fly faster. He could see the stone wall of the tower approaching, but the marble was almost within reach. Just a little bit further. Just a little bit more. He stretched out his right hand, pulling sharply on the broom with his left, just as he was about to collide with the side of the tower. As soon as he closed his fist on the marble, Harry, now drifting sideways towards the tower, stuck out his foot to catch his momentum and push it back, using the wall as a springboard to send himself flying back towards the class.

“Harry!” Su was flying towards him, much shakier than she had been flying before, her face crumpled in concern.

“You dropped this,” he said, holding out the marble.

“That–” Su looked at the marble in surprise, her hand automatically touching her pocket, which was empty. “That’s not the point! You could have gotten hurt!”

Before Harry could answer, he was interrupted by a livid Madam Hooch.

“MR POTTER! LAND! RIGHT NOW! EVERYBODY ON THE GROUND!”

There was grumbling from the rest of the hovering first years as everyone carefully landed their brooms. Harry sheepishly landed beside Su, half-wanting to hide behind her to avoid Madam Hooch’s sharp, yellow-eyed gaze.

“Mr Potter,” said Madam Hooch. “What, in Merlin’s name, possessed you to perform such reckless actions!”

Wordlessly, Harry opened his fist, revealing Su’s gold marble.

“A snitch? I hope you know, Mr Potter, that first years are not allowed to try out for their House Quidditch teams, and public lessons are not the time to be practicing such dangerous stunts!”

“It’s not his fault, Professor!” Su stepped forward. “The snitch is mine.”

“Yours?”

“It fell out of my pocket when I was chasing the ball, and Harry noticed.”

“I see,” Madam Hooch’s expression remained stony. “While your care for your friends is admirable, your recklessness is not. Two points from Gryffindor, Mr Potter.”

“Yes, Madam Hooch,” Harry bowed his head.

“I think that’s quite enough excitement for the day,” said Madam Hooch, checking her watch. “Unfortunately, our lesson ends here—” the remaining first years who had yet to show off their flying prowess, or lack thereof, immediately began to protest, blaming Harry.

“Do not blame Mr Potter,” Madam Hooch reprimanded. “The lesson time has come to an end. We will pick up again next week, however, in the meantime, review your grip techniques and research other basic, _basic_ , flying manoeuvres you wish to perform next week. Class dismissed.”

The few still airborne students grumbled as they landed, but only a few were truly disgruntled with Harry. Most of them, especially his friends, were greatly impressed.

“That was amazing, Harry!” Draco ran up to him, his blond plait flapping behind him. Then he quickly collected himself, straightening up and adopting a stiff expression. “Though that was an incredibly Gryffindor move you pulled, making a risky manoeuvre like that your first time on a broom.”

“Guess I’m just naturally talented,” Harry joked weakly.

“Of course you are!” Ron shouted, bouncing up beside him. “That was bloody brilliant!”

“Bloody terrifying you mean,” Su retorted.

“You should try for seeker next year,” Ron said, ignoring Su. “Gryffindor hasn’t had a good seeker since my brother Charlie left, but they’d snatch you up in a heartbeat.”

“It might be nice to have some decent competition,” Draco nodded, already assuming that he’d get the Slytherin seeker position next year too.

“Boys.” Su rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the quirk of her lips. It was nice to see them all getting along so well – even Draco and Ron in their own bickering way.

She only hoped that these peaceful times would last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] I named Xun after the Chinese character for swift/fast (just typed 'swift' into Google translate in Chinese I know I'm terrible) 
> 
> This is the last chapter that I have pre-written, the next one is still in the works. 
> 
> The tentative title for Chapter 4 is 'Halloween', but you've got good things to look forward to such as:   
> – traumatic nightmares  
> – homework  
> – the troll sequence (of course)  
> \- friendship and bonding!
> 
> \- also a bunch of 'magical theory' that I'm still trying to work out, hence writer's block, but hopefully in the next few months I'll be able to publish it!


End file.
